The Ring Job
by Rayhne
Summary: Jim Sterling hires the team to investigate a cold case ... his own. Warning: Discussion of child abuse/rape. Please review!
1. Introduction

**Introduction  
**

This story grew from another story I am writing called _The Sterling Job_ and share some of the same elements. For those of you waiting for me to finish _The Sterling Job_, I will be working on it once this story is finished.

Please note that this is very much a Sterling-centric story, though the team does figure prominently throughout. It takes place sometime in the beginning of the second season before The Two Live Crew Job. It is maybe ten months since they left LA and before Sophie leaves. At this time there are ten parts finished and I will be posting a part after I finish another part (hopefully every two to three weeks). This way I should be at least eight parts ahead of the game. I am envisioning another six parts to this story. It may be longer or it may be shorter. And yes, I am planning at least one sequel.

Special thanks go to the following:

Paula: for helping me brainstorm this story and passing along some smashing ideas.

Sandra H: for endless encouragement and prodding and the occasional threat to continue and eventually finish this story as well as suggesting the name.

WinchesterWench: for beta reading and grammatical corrections and the words "We're converting the masses 1 by 1... Just got my best friend to fess up that she likes him now."

SirLarryFleming: for beta reading and spelling corrections and the words "BTW, you are making me like Sterling"

The First Readers of FicFinishing: for cheerleading and encouragement.

Please Review!!!!!


	2. Chapter 1

It was almost two in the morning when Nathan Ford walked into his loft. The bar below was just closing and he listened to the noise of the departing patrons as he slipped off his coat and hung it up. He didn't bother to turn on the lights as he made his way to the kitchen, intending to fix a quick meal before going to bed. As he approached the counter dividing kitchen from living area he slowed, a feeling much like dread crawling up his spine. Even before the other spoke, he knew who was standing behind him.

"Living over a bar, Nate?" There seemed to be a hoarseness to the familiar voice, making it low and thick and off-setting the English accent slightly. "An interesting choice for an alcoholic."

"Sterling," Nate said quietly as he finished rolling up a sleeve. After a moment he turned, looking at the figure shadowed in darkness near the windows.

Sterling tipped his head to one side in a familiar motion, letting the moonlight splash across his face. The near full moon gave enough light for Nate to see the familiar features of his former co-worker but the effect was adding an aura of creepiness that gave him chills. Stepping over to a nearby lamp, he switched it on. Both men squinted against the sudden brightness and one of them laughed. It took a moment for Nate to realize it was himself.

Sterling smiled back. "You're looking well, Nate."

To Nate's surprise, Sterling sounded sincere but he couldn't return the sentiment. The other man looked exhausted and worn, his eyes tired and beard unshaven.

"How did you get in here?" Nate asked. He wasn't worried for his safety but he was worried that he hadn't locked up as he should have.

"Picked the lock."

Nate's eyes narrowed. "Where did you learn to pick a lock?"

Sterling shrugged before gesturing. "That painting. It isn't ..."

"Yes, it is. We've gotten rather fond of it."

"You blow up your offices but save the painting. Someone is definitely twisted. Nice digs, by the way." He looked around appreciatively. "Repainted the walls I see."

"What?"

"Oh please, Nate. I've known where you were since you left LA. Wasn't that hard to find you. I figured all of you would stay together. Even when you were trying to break up. Go your own ways. I knew you'd eventually gravitate back to each other. I will admit that it took more time then I figured it would."

Nate stared at him, uncertain if he should believe him. He finally decided he did. "So why are you here?" He glanced at Sterling's attire, frowning. The man was dressed casually in sneakers, jeans, a long-sleeved t-shirt, and denim jacket. Something didn't fit. "And when are your people going to show up?"

"Calm down, Nate. This is an unofficial visit. IYS doesn't even know where I am." Sterling drifted toward the bookcases lining a wall. "Interesting array." he commented as he pulled a book from a shelf and opened it to flip through the pages.

"Why are you here?" Nate repeated.

Sterling's hand stilled and after a moment he looked at Nate without expression. "As pathetic as this may sound, I want to hire you."

Nate stared at him, coming close to gawking. "Hire me? Us rather. You do mean the team?"

Sterling's face tightened. "Yeah. You. The others."

"And this has nothing to do with IYS?" Nate didn't bother to hide the disbelief in his voice.

Sterling shook his head. "Nothing, Nate. I swear it. It's something ... personal."

Nate leaned back against the counter as he eyed the other man thoughtfully. "Have anything to do with Tess?"

Sterling looked away but not before Nate saw a flicker of pain cross his face.

"What?" Nate demanded.

Sterling looked back at him, visibly struggling. "Tess and I are separated," he said finally.

Nate's eyebrow arched, honestly surprised. "Recent thing?"

"Almost three years." His voice was remote.

"Three …" Nate stopped, shaking his head. Three years? How could they have been separated for three years without him realizing it? Of course Sam had been sick but still ... "Sorry to hear that." He finally managed, mildly surprised to realize he meant it.

Sterling turned to slip the book back then rested his hand on the shelf, seemingly studying the books there. Nate's eyes narrowed.

"When was the last time you slept?" he demanded.

"Why do you care?" Sterling snapped back, not bothering to turn.

"I'd prefer you didn't pass out on me. Might be a little hard to explain."

That brought a choked laugh from the other man. "I suppose it would be." He seemed to consider his answer for a long moment then shrugged. "Through the night? Not for a very long time. Peaceably? Not for an even longer time than that. I think I got a few hours sleep a couple nights back."

Nate couldn't help a snort. "Conscience getting the better of you?"

Sterling's head snapped around. "I haven't done anything wrong!" The anger in his eyes was very real but there was something else there as well. Before Nate could identify what that something was, Sterling spun away. He started to pace restlessly then stumbled, reaching out to grab the back of a chair. Nate's anger turned to unexpected concern and he moved forward to catch the other man's elbow to steady him.

Sterling jerked away. "Don't touch me!" He backed away, not looking at Nate. He was breathing hard, almost panting, eyes darting as if looking for escape.

Nate froze, seeing something almost feral in the other man's eyes. It was disturbingly familiar but he couldn't place it and he shook the feeling off. "Sterling!" He said sharply and the other man jerked, eyes clearing.

Sterling stood still for a moment before shaking his head slowly. "This was a mistake," he said in a voice curiously devoid of emotion. "I shouldn't have come." He turned toward the door.

Nate gritted his teeth, torn. He didn't trust Sterling. Couldn't trust the man but after what he had just seen …

"Sterling, wait," he said in a quiet voice.

Sterling stumbled to a halt just short of the doorway.

"When was the last time you ate?"

Sterling turned his head to look at him in surprise. After a moment, he shrugged and Nate sighed.

"Come on."

Sterling hesitated, finally following him to the kitchen. Nate pulled a couple of the prepackaged breakfasts Eliot had made for him from the refrigerator and turned toward the microwave. "Help yourself to some milk. Or make up some coffee." He amended, remembering the other man's penchant for coffee.

For a long moment the only sounds in the kitchen were the microwave and the coffee maker being prepared. Nate found himself studying the man across the room, seeing lines of strain that hadn't been there before. Either Sterling was a much better actor then he'd ever realized or something was seriously bothering the man. And while he was tempted to tell the man to go to hell, the possibility that this had something to do with Sterling's family kept him from doing just that.

The microwave dinged and Nate turned back to it, pulling out the meals and setting them on the kitchen counter. Sterling set a mug of coffee next to him and moved to the opposite side of the counter, slipping onto the stool there.

They ate in silence. Nate suspected Sterling didn't even taste what he was eating, which was a pity, considering how good of a cook Eliot was. Once the plate was empty, he shoved it away and cradled his mug of coffee, staring at the counter.

"More?" Nate asked.

Sterling looked up, startled then shook his head. "No thanks. But, ahhhh, thanks. For the meal. Last couple of weeks …" He paused and looked away.

Nate leaned back, sipping his coffee and eying the man across from him. It looked like he'd lost the weight he had gained over the last couple of years and then some. "This has nothing to do with IYS?" He asked again, still unable to believe it.

Sterling shook his head. "No. In fact, you'll be happy to hear IYS is running surprisingly well since Blackpool was drummed out. I've managed to ease out a few more of the money-geared hard heads and brought in some better people. Which, I suspect, you already know." He gave Nate a wry look.

Nate just nodded. "And nothing to do with Tess and Tommy?"

Sterling's face twitched and he looked away. "I suppose it does," he said softly. "In a roundabout way."

"You two are just separated? Not divorced?" He was still trying to wrap his mind around them even being separated. While he had his problems with Sterling he could never fault the man on his devotion to his family.

"No. Not divorced. We're both still hoping to work things out. Of course it would help if we had known what the problem was in order to work it out." He stared down into his cup of coffee.

Uncertain of how to respond to that, Nate remained silent and after a moment Sterling looked at him, obviously torn.

"It's a long story," he said at last. "And it goes back a long way. It's not very pretty in places. I don't particularly want to tell it and I doubt very much you want to hear it but I … I need your help, Nate. Just ... hear me out. Afterwards, if you choose not to help, I'll go."

Nate studied the other man intently, seeing desperation reflected in his eyes. For a moment he was thrown back into memory.

_Sunday afternoon in the Sterling's backyard. Their two boys, roughly the same age, tossing a baseball back and forth. Sterling and Tess sitting under a tree, Tess leaning back against her husband, laughing at whatever it was he was whispering into her ear. He and Maggie nearby, fending off the ants intent on gathering the crumbs of their picnic_ …

What the hell had happened? But Nate knew the answer to that. Sam had gotten sick and Sterling … Sterling had been nowhere around, too busy weaseling his way into Blackpool's good graces and Nate's cases to be any help. A part of him wanted to turn Sterling away but the desperation in the other man's face was very real.

"Before I agree to anything I want an idea of what it is you want to hire us for," he finally said, more curtly then he had intended. "Then I'll decide."

Sterling hesitated, looking down into his coffee. After a moment he rose, walking over to stare at the portrait though Nate suspected he wasn't really seeing it.

"Sterling," he said quietly.

The other man half-turned to look at him. "Have you ever wanted to bury something? Bury it real deep, never to be found?" His smile was twisted. "Only it never stays buried, no matter what you do?"

Nate didn't answer, sensing that Sterling wasn't really looking for one.

"No matter how long ago you buried it. Or how deeply." He fell silent for a long moment. When he spoke again his voice was low and faltering, speaking as if every word hurt. "I want ... I need ... to hire you ... your team ... to find the man who raped me as a child."

Nate paused with his mug just short of his mouth, staring at the other man in silent shock. After a moment his mind began to work again and he reflected that Sterling was right about one thing. He really didn't want to hear this.

Sterling met his eyes, the muscles in his face taunt, as if he were clenching his teeth and Nate lowered his mug.

"So. Will you hear me out now?" Sterling finally asked.

"Yeah." Nate said quietly. "Yeah. I'll hear you out."

The relief in Sterling's eyes was unmistakable and it was reflected in the soft 'thank you' he uttered as he turned to walk across the room.

Nate kept silent, waiting, knowing that eventually Sterling would need to fill the silence. The look Sterling gave him said he knew very well what he was doing but he was willing to put up with it.

"I was maybe thirteen." He paced as he talked. "Probably younger. I don't know how old I am. Not really. My birth was never registered."

"How …" Nate started, stopping when Sterling shook his head.

"My family were _an Lucht Siúil_." He smiled slightly at Nate's uncomprehending look. "Irish Travelers."

Nate's eyebrows rose. "So you're Irish." At Sterling's nod he grinned. "Well, that explains one thing."

"What?"

Nate's lips quirked. "Whenever you get worked up or angry, you sound more Irish than English."

"Oh. Right." Sterling smiled suddenly, a surprisingly pleasant expression. "Tom always said I gave new meaning to the term 'getting my Irish up'."

"Tom?"

Sterling's smile faded. "He's part of the story." He walked over to pick up his mug, taking a drink before continuing. "I was ... probably younger really but I said I was thirteen. I know the year. 1975. September." He paused, staring at his empty mug before moving to the coffee maker. "I was living on the streets of London at the time."

"What?" Nate asked in surprise. "At thirteen? Or whatever age?"

Sterling gave him a surprisingly sympathetic look. "Trust me. It was better than living with my parents. The only thing I was to them was a way to get money." He hesitated then shrugged. "I was small enough to get in through windows, into homes. Steal what I could for them to sell. And people were more inclined to give money to a begging kid then an adult." His voice was matter-of-fact with no indication that he was fishing for sympathy. "Not to mention I made a hell of a handy punching bag. So I took off. Got to London. Parents never reported me missing. Hell, they probably didn't realize I was gone. They certainly didn't care." The words were dispassionate.

"So no one ever reported you missing? Family? Neighbors? Friends?"

"No neighbors. No friends. Always on the move. My parents were loners. Well, actually they were more like ... shunned, I suppose. We didn't travel with a caravan and we only rarely met with other Travelers and then mainly family. As far as I know, none of them reported me missing either." He gave a bitter laugh. "I suspect they were afraid that if I was ever found they'd end up with me." He paused, rolling the mug in his hands, his eyes lost in memory.

Nate watched him closely, searching for deception and seeing only pain. He leaned back in his chair and waited for the other man to continue.

"I was there, on the streets, a few months before ... there was a man. Ran a little club for street kids. A place to go during the day. Nothing fancy. Books. Games. Food. A place to feel safe." His lips twisted at that. "He had regular talks with the kids, trying to convince them to go home. Get off the streets. That sort of thing. Only ..." He stopped, raw emotion flickering across his face.

Nate rose suddenly, walking over to a cupboard and returning with an almost full bottle of whiskey. Before Sterling could protest, he poured a dollop into the other man's coffee.

Sterling stared at the bottle in surprise. "I thought ..."

"I haven't had a drink since we took down Blackpoole. I just keep it around." He screwed the top back on and put it away.

Sterling studied him for a long moment. "You look ..."

"Like hell." Nate smiled.

The other man smiled back. "Clear eyed. Sober." He took a slow drink, closing his eyes at the mixture of coffee and alcohol. After a moment he sat back down. "This guy. His name was O'Hare. He had a side business. He would supply very exclusive clients with very young … unspoiled … playmates."

Nate winced at the man's wording and Sterling looked at him somberly. "It's rough to hear, I know. It's even harder to live with. Trust me."

Nate's lips thinned and he nodded curtly for the other man to continue.

"See, O'Hare would have private talks with kids, trying to convince them to go home or whatever. Just talks with food, soda. I'd had a couple already so by the third time didn't think much of it. Only that time, something was drugged. Passed out. Woke up somewhere else." He paused and Nate saw the pain caused by that memory in his eyes. Setting down his mug, Sterling clasped his hands, staring at the counter as he continued. "I don't know how long I was out or where I was. I was in a bedroom. I was … naked on the bed. Drugged too. Enough so I really couldn't think straight. Or fight back. I never really saw the man who …"

He stopped again and Nathan didn't press, just leaned back in his chair and waited for the other man to compose himself enough to continue.

"I never saw him. Never saw his face. I know he was white. He had an American accent. And he wore a ring." Sterling raised his left hand, tapping on the thumb with the mug. "A thumb ring. 24-karat gold. Heavy with a very intricate design." He reached into the breast pocket of his jacket and pulled out a card, offering it to Nate. "This design."

Nate took it, frowning at the ring sketched out on the card. It looked like a large ring with an ornate design.

"You sure about this design?" Nate asked.

Sterling gave a bitter laugh. "I can still see it now, clear as day. Mostly in nightmares. Not surprising, considering that that hand and that ring was all I could see, really. For most of the … the assault."

Nate stared at the sketch, trying very hard not to think about what had happened to Sterling while he stared at that ring. He raised his eyes to meet the other man's and realized that Sterling knew what he was thinking. Sterling looked away first, back down at the mug he had once again picked up.

"Afterwards they gave me something to drink, something that knocked me out. When I came to, I was in hospital. There had been a car accident. Me, two girls, O'Hare. Of course as soon as we were examined, they knew what had ... taken place. It didn't take long but it was already too late. O'Hare was found dead in his hospital bed. His house, the club ... they were destroyed by explosions. And what the explosions didn't get, the fires did."

"Someone was covering their tracks."

"Very thoroughly too. None of us kids had any idea who our attackers were. Or where the attacks had happened. The DC in charge figured that O'Hare meant to take us across the channel. Sell us to some exclusive whorehouse that specialized in children. Or even to individual pedophiles. Apparently they ... share and trade children between them. Needless to say, very few of the children survive intact or simply don't survive. All things considered, I was very lucky."

Nate studied him thoughtfully. Sterling had been very lucky to survive but he suspected the man had his own hidden scars. "They never found who attacked you?"

"No. Nowhere to even start really. After a while the case went cold."

"This was over thirty years ago. What could we do now?"

"I don't know. Maybe nothing, but ..." Sterling paused. "A couple weeks ago, there was a company do. You remember those ... yes, I see you do." Sterling smiled at the grimace Nate gave him. Neither of them had ever really cared for the company parties. "Usual thing. Shaking hands, meeting clients. That sort of thing. Over the years I've fallen into the habit of looking at every ring I come by so when I felt a ring during a hand shake, I looked."

"Not this ring?" Nate asked doubtfully.

Sterling shook his head. "No. Not that ring. But definitely that design." He paused with a frown then shook himself. "This ring was white gold and worn on the ring finger rather than the thumb but it was the same design. I'll swear to that." He took a deep breath. "I froze up. Which was a good thing or I might have done something drastic. When my brain started working again, I realized that the man was too young to be my attacker. Maybe early thirties. I begged off sick. Not hard, I'd gone pretty pale. Went back to my place … got royally drunk for two days." He grimaced at that.

"You never were a heavy drinker." Nate remembered.

"Yeah, well. Both my parents were such stellar examples of alcoholics. I've been lucky enough to avoid that addiction. Anyway … when I finally sobered up, I knew I had to do something. Give it one more try. One last attempt to find the bastard. I went through everything I had from over the years. Police reports. My own searches. Everything." He leaned forward, looking at Nate earnestly. "I have tried everything possible. Everything legal. Illegal is all I've got left."

"It's a long shot."

"Yeah, it is but …" He paused before continuing in a quiet voice. "Over thirty years. Thought I had it dealt with. But the cracks, I think, began appearing years ago. You remember, Nate? Carlson?"

Realization appeared on the other man's face.

_To this day Nate wasn't sure how Sterling had found the damning photos. All he knew was that Sterling had walked into the room where Nate was talking with Carlson and handed him some photos before sucker-punching Carlson so hard blood had splattered on the wall behind him._

_Nate had frozen in place, shocked at the other man's actions then he had looked at the photos. When two of Carlson's employees had appeared, ready to defend their boss, he had handed the photos to them then stood back, watching as Sterling hit Carlson again and again …_

_It had taken all three men to pull him off and two months to deal with the fallout but when faced with the possibility of going to jail with the label of child molester, Carlson had dropped the charges against Sterling and plead guilty to insurance fraud._

Nate shook his head free of the memories. "I honestly thought you were going to kill him."

"I might have if you and those other men hadn't pulled me off. Bastard deserved it."

Nate grimaced. "I can't disagree with that."

"Look, I know it's a long shot. But like I said, I need to try. I need to …" He paused, swallowing. "Ever since Carlson I've been finding myself with a hair trigger. Getting angry way too easy."

Nate's eyes narrowed. "I never saw that at work."

"No. No, I kept it wound in at work. It was when …" He stopped dead.

"Is that why you and Tess separated?" Nate asked quietly and there was something almost dangerous in his voice. "Did you take it out on her?"

Sterling's head snapped back, almost as if he'd been slapped. "No! No, I never touched her, Nate! I swear it!"

Despite Sterling's denials, Nate could see the guilt on his face and his lips thinned. "But you came close."

"I ..." Sterling's shoulders sagged. "No. Not then. But I knew ... I knew that in time .... " He shook his head. "I left …" He paused, swallowing hard. "I left so I wouldn't hurt her or Tommy." His eyes met Nate's beseechingly, begging the other man to believe him. "You have to believe me, Nate. I never ... I never struck either of them."

Nate slowly relaxed, nodding. "I believe you," he said then managed a half-smile. "Mainly because I know that if you actually had hurt Tess she would have taken a baseball bat to you in your sleep."

"True." Sterling smiled slightly, a smile that quickly faded. "I couldn't deal. That incident with Carlson opened the floodgates, only I wasn't able to see it and Tess … she doesn't know about … she doesn't know everything. Seeing that ring, that design. I guess it's made me realize that the past can continue to haunt you, even after you think you've dealt with it." He shook his head. "That design. I've checked everywhere I could. I've never found anything like it. There's no record of it anywhere. Never found anyone with it. Until now."

"Who is this guy?"

"What? Oh. His name's Jackson Montgomery. He lives here, in Boston. One of the reasons I thought of you guys actually." He hesitated. "That and the fact that I have done everything I possibly can. I need ... fresh eyes, I guess." His lips quirked. "Eyes that can maybe see into places I can't."

Nate looked at the card he still held thoughtfully. "We'll need to check all of this out."

"I figured." Sterling reached into a pocket, fishing out a flash drive. "Here. Copies of my case file. My own research. Tom keeps me updated on anything new. Not that there's been much."

"Tom?" Nate asked again.

"Oh. He's the DC ... the Inspector in charge of the case. Tom Barnaby. He and his wife took me in, in fact. For a few weeks while they were finding a foster home for me." He hesitated. "They were expecting a child and I was a little more … wild than they could handle at the time."

Nate studied him, suspecting there was more to it then simple wildness. "I'll check this out." He paused. "I'll need to talk to the others about this as well."

Sterling looked away. "Yeah. I know." He fumbled to a halt. "You have no idea how hard this is for me."

"Asking for help? Or asking for help from us?"

"Both." He looked into his empty mug and rose, walking to the sink to wash it.

"I'll give them a call." Nate rose, walking into the living area as he pulled his phone from his pocket. He called quickly and quietly, talking with Eliot, Alec, and Sophie while leaving a message for Parker. He didn't tell them who the client was, just that they may have one. Putting his phone away, he walked back to the kitchen, surprised to find the counter cleaned and mugs and containers in the drainer.

Sterling caught his look and glanced at the drainer. "Spencer does reuse them, doesn't he?"

Nate frowned, disturbed by how much Sterling knew about them. "Well, yeah. I'm just surprised you would know that. And that you'd clean up."

Sterling snorted. "Oh please. You're forgetting who I'm married to."

"Oh. Right." Nate echoed Sterling's smile. Tess had been recycling and reusing long before it became fashionable, not to mention that the words 'woman's work' didn't exist in her vocabulary.

Sterling's smile faded. "Look, Nate. I ... I can't tell that story again. Not to them. I could … barely tell it to you. I'll answer questions if I have to but ..."

"Yeah. Sure. They'll be here soon ... which you already knew." He sighed at Sterling's smirk. "You won't have to tell it again. I activated the recorder when I realized you were here. I'll just play that."

Sterling looked around. "Neatly done. I didn't see it. Look, I know you'll probably want me to hang around just ... well, so they can be pissed at me if nothing else but, you know, maybe I can get out of sight. Just so I don't get my jaw broken the moment Spencer sees me."

Nate chuckled at that, his eyes speculative.

"Nate," Sterling said in an exasperated tone.

Nate's smirk faded and he sighed. "Right. Go in the other room." He nodded toward a door leading into a small sitting room.

Sterling walked over to open the door, scanning the room. "Mind if I get some more coffee first?"

"Help yourself. And close the door."

Sterling gave him a look as he walked over to fill his mug then returned to the room, closing the door firmly behind him.


	3. Chapter 2

"Tell me you're kidding?" Eliot almost snarled. "Sterling? You want us to do a job for him? Where the hell is that bastard? I'll do a job on him."

"Eliot!" Nate said sharply. "Listen, okay? Just hear what he told me."

Eliot glared at him, eyes darting toward the sitting room.

"Eliot. Please."

"Fine." He growled through clenched teeth, throwing himself into a chair. Nate winced at the sound, certain the chair would collapse and relieved when it didn't.

"I hope you know what you're doing." Sophie sighed as she settled into the couch next to Hardison.

"Look, I don't trust the man anymore than any of you do but if what he's brought us is true then I honestly can't think of a reason not to help him."

"So you have your doubts about this?" Hardison asked.

Nate hesitated. "I've known Sterling to do just about anything to close a case but this … we'll check it all out before we make a commitment." He paused, looking around. "Where's Parker?"

The others shook their heads.

"Fine. We'll catch her up later." He looked at the monitors on the wall and hesitated, remembering what Sterling had told him. After a moment he started the recording, fast-forwarding until he reached the point he wanted.

_"… long story. And it goes back a long way. It's not very pretty in places. I don't particularly want to tell it and I doubt very much you want to hear it but I … I need your help, Nate. Just ... hear me out. Afterwards, if you choose not to help, I'll go ..."_

"Damn," Eliot said when the recording was done and Nate had shut it off. "Little bastard isn't that good of an actor."

"No one is that good of an actor." Sophie's hands were clasped tightly on her knee. "My god."

"You got that flash drive?" Hardison had his laptop already open. "And the sketch? I'll get that scanned in."

"I don't like the guy any more than any of you and I don't trust him," Nate said. "But I think he's telling the truth. Question is, are we going to help him?"

"I don't know." Eliot shoved himself to his feet and headed for the kitchen. "If it were any other shit I'd tell him to go to hell."

"Unfortunately it sounds like he's already been there," Sophie said quietly. "Look. Why don't we check it out? Make sure it's legitimate. Then we can decide."

Hardison grunted agreement, using another piece of machinery that had somehow managed to creep its way into Nate's condo to scan in the sketch. After a moment, the design appeared on one of the screens.

"First thing's first. Hardison, see if you can find the original case file. Make sure it's legit. If it is, well, we'll go from there."

"How about the investigating officer?" Eliot asked. "Think we can ask him about it?"

Nate shook his head. "From the sound of it, he and Sterling are friends. I'd like to leave him out of the loop unless it's absolutely necessary." He nodded toward Hardison. "We'll find the original case file then we can check it against the one Sterling brought us. If need be we'll figure out a reason to contact the DC." He paused, shaking his head slowly. "That incident with Carlson happened shortly before Sammy got so sick. Sounds like both of our lives went to hell pretty much at the same time. Too busy trying to save ourselves to worry about each other. I ended up drowning myself in liquor and Sterling … in work."

"Carlson?" Sophie asked tentatively.

"Subject of an insurance investigation. Sterling and I were working it together. In the course of the investigation, we discovered Carlson was molesting his daughter on a regular basis. Sterling freaked. Beat the man badly enough to put him in the hospital."

Eliot grunted. "Didn't know he had it in him." There was a hint of admiration in the man's voice.

"We all do, given the right trigger. Look. We'll check this all out. Make sure this is completely on the up-and-up. Then if everyone agrees, we'll … do what we can. May not be able to accomplish much but at least we can try. Hardison, see if you can get more information on O'Hare and Jackson Montgomery as well. Plus Sterling mentioned two girls who were in the car as well. I'll see if I can get more information from him on them but check and see what you can ..."

"Where did that come from?" Parker's voice came from the doorway and they all looked toward her, startled. She stood there, her eyes locked on the screens, on the design. Her face was pale, her jaw set.

"Parker." Nate shook his head, marveling at the woman's ability to sneak up on them. "It's for a new job."

"What job? Where did you get it?" Her voice rose.

"Sterling brought it," Sophie said, puzzled. "He …"

"Sterling?" Parker's eyes narrowed. "Where?"

Sophie's eyes involuntarily went to the closed door and Parker followed her eyes. The next moment she was in motion, sprinting for the door to the sitting room. She made a snatching motion at a bookshelf, grabbing something shiny from its hiding place as she ran.

"What the hell … Parker!" Eliot vaulted over the counter. "She's got one of my knives!"

ooOoo

Sterling looked over toward the door as it was flung open, expecting to see a pissed-off Spencer. What he saw was Parker, coming toward him moving fast with a knife in one hand.

"Shit!" He dropped the near-empty mug as he reached out to grab Parker's wrist. His actions were automatic as he twisted her to one side, using his free hand to wrench the knife from her hand. He let it slide through his fingers until he held the tip then threw it to one side.

Parker's knee jerked upward and he gasped as she connected with his groin. As he doubled over, she slammed a fist into his cheek and he stumbled back, his foot coming down on the mug he'd dropped. He fell back, the sudden impact with a edge of a table making him yelp in pain.

"What the hell?" Sterling gasped, grabbing her other wrist with his free hand and shoving her back. "What the hell's wrong with her?" He was hard pressed to keep Parker's hands away from his face. The look in Parker's eyes scared him and he struggled to hold her back. He had no doubts that she would claw his eyes out if she got close enough.

"She saw that design. Set her off." Eliot was circling the pair, trying to work out a way to grab Parker without hurting her.

"Hey! It's not my damn design!"

"He's right, Parker. It's not," Sophie said. "It belongs to the man who molested him as a child."

At the older woman's words, Parker stopped fighting so quickly that Sterling stumbled forward. He caught himself, staring into Parker's stricken eyes.

"You too?" she said in a small voice.

"What? What do you mean? Parker …" Sterling stopped dead as the realization of her words sank in and he gave her a horrified look. "Oh, god. Parker ... Parker, wait!"

The woman wrenched herself free and Sterling reached for her but she was already past him and heading for the window. She had it open and was through it before any of them could do anything.

Wincing at the pain in his back, Sterling grabbed the back of a chair to steady himself and watched her scramble out and up.

"She's headed for the roof!" Eliot started for the door only to find Sophie in his way.

"I'll go. All of you stay here."

Eliot glowered after her then spun, grabbing Sterling and slamming him against the wall hard. "What the hell are you playing at?"

Still keyed up from the unexpected attack and in pain, Sterling reacted without thinking and Eliot found himself sprawled on the floor, looking up at him in astonishment.

"Don't touch me!" Sterling spat, that half-feral look that Nate had seen earlier back in his eyes. But now he recognized it. He'd seen it more than once in Parker's eyes.

"Sterling!" He said sharply, grabbing the man's arm and jerking him around.

For a moment he thought Sterling would attack him but then the other man took a deep shuddering breath and visibly took control of himself. "I didn't know. I couldn't know. There's nothing in her records to suggest … look, whatever any of you may think of me, I am not that big of a bastard." He paused, swallowing hard. "Now if you don't mind, I really think I'm going to be sick."

"Bathroom's over there." Nate gestured toward a nearby doorway and Sterling stumbled through it.

"You wanna explain to me how the hell he managed to knock you on your ass?" Hardison said in distinctly awed tones.

Eliot glowered at him as he climbed back onto his feet. "Wasn't expecting it," he growled in tones that suggested the other man drop it. "This is too much of a coincidence." Spinning, he walked over to where the knife was stuck in the spine of a book. Pulling the book from the shelf, he jerked it free. He scowled when he realized the book was one of his cookbooks and scowled even more at the title: _The Sharper Your Knife, the Less You Cry: Love, Laughter, and Tears at the World's Most Famous Cooking School_.

"Look, I've read Parker's file thoroughly," Nate said. "The same file Sterling would have read. There's no mention of molestation in it. Abuse, yes. Molestation, no. There's no way Sterling could have known."

"Don't you think its a little hinky? Them both knowing that design? Or whatever it is?"

"Yeah, I do. Hardison, check out Sterling's story. Check it out every way you can." He glanced at the bathroom, where they could hear the sound of running water. Nate continued in a low voice. "If it's legit then the job just may be bigger than we originally thought."

"And if it isn't," Eliot said coldly. "I'm knocking more than a few teeth out of that bastard's head."

There was the sudden sound of shattering glass and Eliot swore. Tossing the book onto a chair and sticking the knife into a nearby drawer, he started for the bathroom. Before he could reach it, Sterling was there, blood dripping from his hand.

"Sorry about the mirror, Nate." His face was pale and his voice distinct. "I'll replace it."

"Shit. Hardison, get the first aid kit." Eliot reached around Sterling and grabbed a towel, wrapping it around his hand. "Sit down before you fall down."

Sterling groped for the nearest chair, half-collapsing into it. Nate thrust a hurriedly prepared mug of coffee at him.

"Here. Drink this."

Sterling automatically obeyed and grimaced. "Whoa. What did you do? Dump the sugar bowl into it?"

"Good for shock. Drink it."

Sterling looked at his lacerated hand and drank, his hand shaking.

"Here." Hardison set the well-stocked first aid kit on the table next to Eliot and offered the bottle of whiskey to Nate. He took it, looking at Sterling inquiringly.

Sterling stared at it for a moment, obviously debating. "I'm going to need a lift back to the hotel."

"That can be arranged." Nate grabbed a glass from the bathroom and splashed some whiskey into it, offering it to the other man.

Sterling set down the coffee and took the whiskey, leaning back to watch with a detached air as Eliot cleaned the wounds. He looked numb, a state that was confirmed by his lack of response to what the young man was doing, despite the fact that it had to be painful.

"I didn't know, Nate," he said quietly. "I swear it. I did not know. If I had, I would have said something so you could keep her out of this." Sterling's face tightened at Nate's lack of response. "I'm not cruel, Nate! You _know_ that. I know exactly what kind of hell she's been through and I would not put another person through that if I could help it."

Nate studied him, his mind working. A part of him was wondering if this was some sort of set-up on Sterling's part but another part of him firmly rejected that thought. Sterling was single-minded and hard-headed but he wasn't cruel. "I believe you," he said at last.

Sterling relaxed at that, his shoulders slumping as he turned his attention back to the man working on his hand.

Eliot grunted. "It's not too bad. Won't need stitches. I'll get it bound up."

Sterling nodded. His color was coming back and his eyes were not as remote.

"What do you know about the other two girls who had been with you? About their cases?" Nate asked.

Sterling didn't answer and for a moment Nate wondered if he had even heard then the other man shook his head slowly.

"Not much. Tom talked to me about my case because he figured I had a right to know. But he never talked to me about the others." He looked at the glass in his hand then downed what was left in it, setting it aside and shaking his head at Nate's unspoken offer of another. "I could ask him, if you want. Whether they mentioned that design."

Nate thought about it then shook his head. "We'll save that for a last resort. Hardison may be able to find something out."

"So you'll help?" Sterling asked, not able to completely hide the desperation in his voice.

Nate slowly nodding. "Yeah. We'll help. On two conditions. First thing is you can't hold anything back. We need to know it all."

Sterling let out a choked laugh. "Nate, I've told you things my wife doesn't know. Things I didn't mean to say. I don't think I have much else left to hide." He looked away but Nate could still see the conflicting emotions on his face. "There are some things I'd prefer not to talk about. You can find most of that information in the case file. But if you need to know something ..."

Nate met Eliot's eyes. The retrieval specialist looked particularly grim.

"We probably won't," Nate said.

"Right." Sterling looked at him. "The other condition?"

"I want you to stay out of this," he said firmly. "We'll do the work. Working on this on your own could screw things up and get in our way."

Sterling's lips thinned but he nodded. "Right. I figured. Besides I've done all I can do on the legal side. Just ... just keep me in the loop."

"We'll give you regular reports." Nate temporized. "Are you staying here in Boston?"

"Yeah. Took a leave of absence from work." He wiggled the fingers of his injured hand experimentally. "So now what?"

"We need to do some research. Check things out." Nate hesitated.

"And you'd prefer I wasn't around when you did it." Sterling shrugged. "I figured as much."

"I'll give you a ride to the hotel." Nate dug out his keys.

"Wait a sec," Eliot said suddenly. "You never saw this guy, right? So beyond the ring you can't identify him."

Sterling bit his lip, looking away. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet. "Rape kits were done. At the time all they could establish was that each of us had been raped by different men." His voice faltered and he swallowed before continuing. "When DNA started to become useful, Tom pushed to have the kits tested and entered into the system. No hits on any of our attackers but their DNA are in the system. And there's a copy on the flash drive."

"So if we can find a suspect and can somehow get a sample of their DNA, it can be compared," Nate said and Sterling nodded. "So we can test this Montgomery. Make sure he isn't related to your attacker."

"Yeah. I was kind of wondering that myself." Sterling rose, grabbing the back of the chair as the world spun briefly. "Damn," he muttered. "At least I ate something. Otherwise I'd be in real trouble." He looked around, finally walking over to take his jacket from the coat rack. "What about my rental?"

"Eliot can put it in the garage we use. It's secure."

"Right." Sterling pulled out a rental key ring, offering it to the younger man. "The blue two-door parked across the street."

"Got it." Eliot took the keys and walked ahead of them.

Once outside Sterling paused, looking up toward the roof. "Think she's okay?"

Nate was surprised to hear real concern in the other man's voice. He almost said something about it happening years ago but remembered that Sterling was here because of something that happened even longer ago. "I'll check on her when I get back. Here." He used the remote to unlock the car doors.

Sterling grunted as he opened the door and slipped inside. "Tess wants one of these electric cars." He snapped on the seatbelt.

Nate grinned. "They are fun." He started the car and pulled out into traffic. "So you two are still talking?"

Sterling gave an amused snort. "It's not the talking that's the problem. It's the listening." He glanced at Nate. "Me. Not her. Tess."

"If you knew that …"

"Hindsight is twenty-twenty. I didn't see it then. Too damn stubborn I guess. Thought I knew what was wrong. So yeah. We still talk. Much to my surprise. I think any other woman would have started divorce proceedings long ago."

"You're lucky. She loves you enough to put up with what you're putting her through right now."

"Yeah."

"And Tommy?"

"Oh, he's doing great. 'Course he doesn't understand why daddy isn't living at home and since daddy has no idea why daddy isn't living at home, I can't explain it to him. But I see him at least every couple weeks. Every week if I can."

There was a long silence before Nate spoke up again. "Have you seen Maggie lately?"

"She's doing pretty good. She …" He stopped abruptly.

Nate threw him a look. "It's all right. We, ahhhh, we parted friends. In fact I think we make better friends then spouses. Well, at least now."

Sterling smiled at that. "She's dating a real nice guy. Archaeologist. They share a lot of the same interests and in fact she's applied for a leave of absence to go on a dig with him in the Southwest."

"Anyone I know?"

"Eldon Beacon? Works out of the Jeffersonian."

Nate shook his head.

"Tess knows him. In fact she introduced him to Maggie. There's the hotel."

Nate slipped the car into a handy parking spot, watching as Sterling opened the door and got out. Slamming the door shut, Sterling paused, finally stooping to lean in through the open window.

"You ever think, Nate, how much better we'd be if we actually listened to the women in our lives?"

Nate smiled. "I suspect that every generation of man since Adam has been thinking that and every generation to come will be thinking that as well." He studied the man and shook his head. "Get some sleep. You look like hell."

"Nice to know I look the way I feel." Sterling stepped back and watched as Nate pulled away.

ooOoo

"Find anything?"

"Not since you asked me two minutes ago." Hardison almost, but not quite, growled.

"I don't trust this guy. The sooner we know this is legit, the better. And if it's not then the sooner I can start busting out teeth." Eliot resumed his pacing behind the other man.

"Look, I'm cycling through the case files trying to find one that matches what he told us. I mean, he was underage. They wouldn't use his real name."

"If Sterling is even is his real name," Sophie said as she came into the condo. "Which I seriously doubt."

"Yeah. Right. Just a second …" Hardison turned his complete attention to the computer.

Eliot decided to leave him alone, watching as Sophie walked into the kitchen. "How's Parker?" Behind him he could hear Hardison's typing falter as he listened for her answer.

"She refused to speak to me. Acted like nothing happened then took off. She wouldn't say where she was going."

"Damn. Hardison?"

The other man was already shaking his head. "She found all the tracking devices and she's left her ear bud behind. Here. I found something." Eliot vaulted over the couch, landing next to the hacker while Sophie hurried over to settle into a chair nearby. Documents started to flash over the screens, too rapidly to read. "According to this, Martin and Gloria Sterling adopted a child in 1977. A boy, age given as fifteen."

"And before that?" Sophie asked.

"He'd lived with them for about two years before the adoption. Before that … I'm backtracking information here and I've found that there was a car accident in September of '75 that fits the bill. Three kids; names given as Joe Blogg, Jane Smythe, Elisabeth Tyler. Finding that was fairly easy. Here comes the hard part. Getting into the police computer and finding the records. Which hopefully were put into the computer and kept updated."

"Didn't Sterling say his Inspector friend was keeping the case active?" Eliot asked, leaning forward to scan a document, scowling when it was abruptly replaced by another.

"Yeah. That gives me hope."

"Why don't you just get the case number off of this?" Sophie picked up the flash drive, turning it in her fingers.

Hardison shook his head. "I want the information clean, not what Sterling gave us. We can go over that stuff once we know what he says is true. Okay, they used those aliases for the case records. Joe Blogg …here we go."

They all looked up as photos splashed across the screens, a half-dozen of them in black-and white.

"Oh shit," Eliot said, anger tempering his words.

"Definitely Sterling." Nate's voice came from behind them and they all turned to look at the man, which was much better then looking at the screens. "Damn. He looks so much like his son. I could almost swear that it was Tommy up there."

The boy on the screens had Sterling's eyes, though they were disturbingly blank. The pictures had obviously been taken in a hospital room; he was wearing a hospital gown. In a few of the photos, the gown had been adjusted to reveal vivid bruises on his hips, thighs, and buttocks. The other photos concentrated on the bruises on his face and arms.

"Looks like Sterling was telling the truth," Hardison muttered.

"I hate to admit it but I agree," Sophie said.

Eliot snarled curses under his breath. "Me too, damn it. So now what?"

"Hardison, keep digging." Nate took the mug of coffee Sophie offered him. "Compile what you find with what Sterling has. We'll need more information. Especially on this Jackson Montgomery. And …" He paused, looking around. "See what you can dig up on Parker's childhood as well. See what you might be able to find there."

Hardison look uncomfortable.

"Just go through her foster records, okay? Sophie, maybe you can get her to talking. Find out when it might have happened. And where."

"She did not want to talk about it," Sophie protested. "She acted like nothing had happened. But okay. I'll try. When I see her again, that is."

"Hey, guys. I got something here," Hardison said. "I brought up the reports that Sterling has on the flash drive and am scanning them, comparing them with what's in the police database. Looks pretty legit."

"Not surprising, I guess." Nate walked over to lean on the back of the couch. "What do we have?"

"Well, lets see … apparently they thought that Sterling could actually be younger then he claimed. He insisted he was thirteen but the doctor who treated him was of the opinion he could have been as young as …" Hardison stopped dead.

"Eleven." Nate read over his shoulder. "Damn."

"Anyone else want some more coffee?" Sophie said suddenly, her voice high as she abruptly turned away.

"Yeah. Please. Thank you." Nate watched her for a moment before turning back to Hardison. "What else?"

"He had claimed to be from London and apparently sounded like it … says at the time he had a Cockney accent … but when angry or tired, he spoke with an Irish accent. A full medical exam showed evidence of long-term physical abuse and malnutrition."

Nate nodded thoughtfully. "I think we can safely say he is on the up-and-up." He looked at the other three, seeing disgruntled looks but no protests. "Okay. One, we keep both Sterling and Parker out of this. May not be easy but we can't have them involved. Now this Jackson Montgomery is the catalyst so we might want to start with him."

"Look, how about I do this, get the information together? Then we can talk." Hardison made shooing motions. "You guys go over there and do some planning or something."

Nate hid a smile. "Sure. Come on, Eliot."


	4. Chapter 3

Sterling blinked his eyes open, surprised that he'd actually managed to sleep. Not that it had been for very long but every little bit helped. He rolled onto his back then swung off the bed and to his feet abruptly.

"What the hell ... damn it!" He grabbed the nightstand as pain flared in his back and glared at the young woman standing nearby. "What the hell are you doing here? And how ..." He paused, glancing at the still-chained door then the balcony window. "No, never mind. Why are you here?"

Parker looked at him warily, shifting from foot to foot. "I just wanted to see if you were all right," she finally mumbled.

"What?" Sterling stared at her in astonishment.

Parker shrugged. "I should have found out more before I ..." She stopped, frowning, looking uncertain as what to say.

Sterling looked at her for a long moment, reaching back to touch the area that had connected with the table, wincing at the pain. Turning, he walked over to where he had left a bottle of pain-killers, shaking a couple out into his hand and swallowing them with warm mineral water.

"It's okay," he said finally. "Under the circumstances I guess I can't blame you. Well, I could but ... I was ready to do the same thing not too long ago." Half-turning, he raised his shirt and looked over his shoulder and into the mirror, grimacing at the vivid bruise spreading there.

"Wow. I didn't think human skin could turn those colors," Parker said, mild awe in her voice.

Sterling couldn't help but chuckle as he let the shirt drop. He turned, absently leaning back against the counter. With a hiss of pain he straightened. "So now what?" he asked, not really expecting an answer.

Parker shrugged again, glancing almost guiltily downward. He frowned, looking at the table she was standing near. Something was missing

Parker must have seen the realization on his face and she stooped, picking up the sketch pad she had obviously dropped when he had moved.

He had, he remembered, left the pad open on the table.

"Who is this?" she asked, holding out the pad.

Sterling looked at the sketch with a sigh. "My son. Tommy."

Parker looked at him in surprise. "I didn't know you had a son."

Sterling gave a snort of laughter. "Surprise. He's ... ahhhh ... nine. Be ten real soon. Lives with his mother."

Parker was silent for a long moment, eying first the sketch then him. "Divorced?"

"No. No. Just separated."

Parker eyed him for a long moment then returned to studying the sketch. She surprised him with a sudden smile. "He looks like you."

"Yeah. So I've been told." Sterling smiled. Not the hard sardonic smile she knew well but a softer one that seemed to transform him.

"Do you see him?"

"Yeah. As often as I can."

Parker studied him with a frown. "So why are you separated?"

Sterling hesitated. "You ask a lot of questions."

Parker shrugged.

"Fine." Sterling paused, licking his lips. "I, ahhhh, I started getting angry too easily and more often and I was afraid I'd hurt one of them so ... I left. Last thing I wanted was to take my anger out on them."

Parker studied him for a long moment. "So you're taking it out on the rest of the world instead."

Sterling looked at her in surprise. "Yeah. Yeah, I guess I am." He hesitated before adding softly. "But then so are you."

Parker's eyes narrowed. She dropped the pad and was at the window almost before he could even register that she had moved. Sterling knew that she was going to leave but suddenly he didn't want her to.

"Parker! Wait!" Ignoring the pain in his back, he moved forward, stooping to scoop up the pad. She stopped just short of the window and he looked down at the sketch book, flipping the pages back before holding it out. "What do you think?"

Parker came back tentatively, making Sterling feel as if he was coaxing a wild animal to him. She looked at the sketch and almost smiled. "That's very good."

Sterling looked at the sketch with a half-smile. It was of Sophie, up on that roof, wearing the jump harness, her arms spread like some kind of wind goddess ready to take to the air. "You two scared the hell out of me. Jumping off the roof like that."

"We didn't have much choice." Parker took the sketch book to look at the sketch more intently. "You weren't going to keep your word." Her voice was accusing.

Sterling arched an eyebrow. "Sure about that?"

Parker looked at him, confused. "You left men at the foot of the stairs."

Sterling rolled his eyes. "Of course I did! I was dealing with a pack of thieves! How was I to know I was getting the real David, eh? Had to make sure, didn't I?"

"So you would have just let us go?" Parker said dubiously.

"We'll never know, will we? Because Nate decided to break his end of the bargain first." There was a sharp trace of bitterness in the man's voice.

Parker looked at him, obliviously uncertain as to what to think.

"You hungry?" Sterling asked abruptly, realizing he hadn't eaten since the meal Nate had given him earlier and it was now well after noon.

Parker hesitated before shrugging. "Yeah. Sure."

"Here." He picked up the room service menu from the nearby table and offered it. "Pick out what you want."

Parker scanned the menu, finally settling on a medium-rare hamburger with fries and a side order of fried mushrooms. Sterling called in the order, getting a soup and sandwich for himself, adding milk for the both of them as an afterthought. Setting down the phone, he turned to see the young woman curled up in a chair, once again looking at the sketch book.

"You should give this to Nate." She said suddenly and Sterling knew she was talking about the sketch of Sophie.

"So it's serious then?" He sat down, looking over in time to catch Parker's suspicious look. He sighed. "No ulterior motive, Parker. Just curiosity."

Parker studied him for a moment then shrugged. She thrust the pad at him abruptly. "Draw Eliot and Hardison," she demanded.

Sterling looked at her in surprise, taking the sketch pad slowly. "All right." He flipped to a blank page and looked at it for a moment, forming the image in his mind before he set pencil to paper. Soon he lost himself in the sketch and was actually startled when there was a knock on the door. He blinked himself back out of the sketch and looked up. "Oh, right. Room service."

The waiter wheeled the cart in and set everything up deftly, taking the tip Sterling offered him with a murmur of thanks. Sterling looked over to see Parker studying the sketch. "What do you think?"

"They both look frustrated. Why do you have Eliot at the computer?"

Sterling chuckled. "I just got this mental image of Hardison trying to teach Spencer how to use a computer. That's what came out."

Parker looked thoughtful then smiled suddenly, an impish smile that made her look even younger. "Now that I think about it, that's pretty much what it looked like when he tried."

"Come on. Food."

They ate in silence; Sterling well aware of the looks Parker continued to give him. She was, he reflected, more child than woman. In a way, she reminded him of … he cut off that thought and finished his sandwich.

"Could you draw someone from a description?" Parker asked suddenly and he looked at her, startled. She was picking the deep fried batter covering the mushroom appetizers off and eating just the mushroom.

"I suppose I could. I've sketched things from description though not people. Why?"

Parker squirmed in her chair and Sterling suddenly knew what she was about to ask. "The guy who hurt me …"

"I'm not sure that would be a good idea." He interrupted. "Maybe you should talk to Nate or Sophie first."

Parker gave him a fierce look. "I can make my own decisions!"

Sterling hesitated. She was right. She was an adult but he couldn't help but feel that she was still very young emotionally. A part of him knew he would regret this but it was her choice. "I can try, if you like. I can't make any guarantees."

A half hour later, Sterling was on the balcony, swearing softly as he watched Parker scramble up to the roof. Damn! He'd known that was a mistake. Hurrying back into the room, he grabbed his jacket and pulled it on. Like it or not, he had to talk with Nate.

ooOoo

"Here's the information on Montgomery." A photo of an attractive man, perhaps in his early thirties, appeared on the screens. Brown-haired and blue-eyed, he appeared fit as he sat on a polo pony, a mallet resting on his shoulder. Hardison resumed his pacing as he talked. "Even if he hadn't been born rich, he would be anyway. Over the past seven years, he has tripled his family's fortunes solely through hard work. And he gives it away. In handfuls. Not that it actually makes a dent in his wealth."

The pictures on the screens changed, showing the man at various functions.

"He seems fond of children's charities and cultural endowments. Museums, hospitals, a day-care center for low-income families, churches. Unmarried, no kids, no current attachments. Last known hook-up was an up-and-coming actress. As for the ring …" Hardison stepped over to the laptop and the photos on the screen were replaced by grainy zoom-ins. The sketch of the design Sterling had given them appeared on one of the screens. "That's the best I can do with what I got here, people."

"Not a very good image." Sophie rose to take a closer look. "We need better photos."

"I checked his insurance inventory." Hardison collapsed into a chair, reaching for a soda. "Thought maybe we could get a photo there but it isn't listed."

Nate frowned. "Well, that's weird. Sterling knows his jewelry and if he says that ring is white gold, it is. It should be insured."

"So what's our plan here, Nate?" Eliot asked.

"Well." Nate stared at the screen. "We know he wasn't Sterling's attacker but maybe he's related to him and that design is some sort of family crest."

"I'm doing searches of that design everywhere. Actually Sterling had already done searches but maybe I can find something he couldn't."

"Have you?" Eliot asked.

Hardison looked uncomfortable. "No. Not yet but I'm still looking." He glared at Eliot's smirk. "It's not any registered family crest or anything like that. Now here." Putting down the soda, Hardison brought up another series of scenes. "Montgomery is giving a series of fund-raisers in support of the Boston Museum, one of which is occurring tomorrow afternoon. Unfortunately it is by special invitation only. However, Miss Rose Tyler, renowned Southern belle, will be receiving hers by special courier within the hour." He grinned at Sophie.

"Oh. A party." Sophie smiled brightly. "Where?"

"Down, Sophie. We're getting information on the man, not casing the joint." Despite his words, Nate smiled.

"Why just Sophie?" Eliot asked.

Hardison gave him a look. "Pretty lady, single man? Look, all we need is better pictures of the ring and maybe something for DNA. This is all very low-key. But I did rent a fancy car and I suspect a chauffeur will be in order." He shot a smug look at Eliot, who scowled at him.

"Where is the event?" Sophie asked.

"Mission Hill. His house." The pictures changed and Eliot whistled.

"Nice."

There was a sudden sharp knock on the door and Hardison automatically switched the camera view to the hallway. Sterling was standing outside the door, looking directly at the hidden camera.

"He knows way too much about this place." Eliot pushed himself to his feet and walked over to open the door.

Sterling eyed him, obviously uncomfortable in the retrieval specialist's presence. "Is Parker here?" he asked curtly.

"No, she's not." Nate rose, motioning for Hardison to shut everything down and then for Eliot to let the man in.

"Damn. When she went out the window I figured she'd come back here." Sterling walked in, frowning. It took a moment for Nate to realize he was worried.

"What happened?" Eliot demanded. "What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything." His accent seemed to change, more Irish then English. "She just appeared in my room. Scared the bloody hell out of me." He hesitated, finally looking at Nate. "She found one of my sketch books. Asked me if I could sketch someone from a description. I said, sure. Probably."

"She wanted you to sketch the man who attacked her."

"I didn't realize that at first. Once I did I told her she should talk to one of you but she said she could make her own decisions. True enough. So we gave it a shot."

"And it blew up on you." Eliot was obviously blaming Sterling for this turn of events and, to Nate's surprise; Sterling seemed to blame himself as well.

"She could give me pieces of description and I told her she was doing fine. That's all I needed to make a conclusive whole. The more upset she got the harder it was for her to remember. She got frustrated and the next thing I knew she went out the window. Which is really unnerving."

"Eliot, go check the roof." Nate waited until the younger man was gone before looking back at Sterling. "And you came here to tell us."

"Yeah, I did." Sterling eyed him for a moment, obviously debating with himself.

"What?" Nate said curtly.

Sterling looked over at the others then back. "I want to try again with Parker. See if we can sketch her bastard out."

Nate frowned. "I don't know …"

"She isn't going to forget about it, Nate. Trying to forget about it just doesn't work. Take it from someone who knows. It just festers, poisons your life without you ever even realizing it."

"Are you blaming your actions on what happened over thirty years ago?"

"My actions?" Sterling looked amused. He thought for a moment then shrugged. "Not really. But something like that … it does creep into your life. You do things because of it. Carlson. Carlson started the cracks without me even realizing it. Things spiraled out of control and the only way I could keep any kind of control was …. ahhhh … well, was at work."

"And you went overboard there."

"Did I? That's funny because a few years back, you'd be doing exactly what I'm doing." Sterling slowly approached his former friend, studying him. "You've taken yourself above the law, Nate. Whether you want to admit it or not. You might be doing things for the right reasons." He raised his voice to talk over what Nate was trying to say. "But you are doing them the wrong way. You can't take the law in your own hands, no matter what the bastard's done."

Nate started to say something then stopped abruptly, realization dawning. After a moment, Sterling nodded slowly.

"Yeah. That's what you said to me when you pulled me off Carlson. Never mind that he was raping his daughter on a regular basis. Can't break the law to right a wrong, you said. I'm not the bad guy here, Nate. I never was. Maybe I went overboard but I am not the one breaking the law."

"No. You're the one asking us to break the law for you." Nate shot back.

Sterling's face tightened and his voice was bitter. "Yeah. Another thing I'll have to deal with. Or do you honestly believe it's not costing me to come to you? I didn't up and decide to come here on a whim, Nate. I spent days wrestling with it." He stopped, obviously struggling with himself before turning away, retreating to the window, looking out without really seeing the view.

Nate studied the other man, seeing the lines of tension visible in his stance and decided not to press. He changed the subject. "Do you really think you can draw the subject from Parker's description?"

Sterling looked at him, startled. "Yeah, sure. Had a good start but she got too upset to continue. That's why I was thinking maybe bring in a hypnotist."

Nate thought about it. "That might work. We'll talk it over. You want to stick around?"

Sterling looked at the others and shook his head slowly. "Won't do much good for me to stick around. I'll head back to the hotel. I have some work to do anyway." He grinned at Nate's sour look. "Nothing to do with any of you."

"All right." He watched as Sterling headed for the door, stopping just short of it. He stood there for a moment before turning.

"I take it you've read my case file."

Nate nodded.

"Those pictures?"

Unable to respond verbally, Nate nodded again.

"You're a smart man, Nate. Think about it. You should be able to figure out why I'm here. Willing to break the law." Sterling turned, brushing past Eliot as he walked back into the condo.

Nate stared after him, his jaw clenching as he realized what Sterling meant.

"What?" Eliot asked.

Nate looked at him for a long moment. "Remember what I said about those pictures? I almost thought it was Tommy up there. If I were to hazard a guess, I'd say Sterling hadn't looked at those photos in a very long time. He must have looked at them in the last few weeks and he saw what I saw. He saw Tommy in those pictures."

Eliot's jaw tightened. "Got it."

"Was Parker up on the roof?"

"Yeah. She'll be down in a few minutes." He glanced to one side and sighed. "Or sooner."

Nate turned to see Parker just coming from the visitor's room. "I thought you'd bolted those windows closed," he murmured.

"I did," Eliot hissed back.

Parker sprawled in one of the chair, glowering at them defiantly. "Where's Sterling?"

Nate looked at her in surprise. "We need to talk so he went back to his hotel."

"Talk?" Parker's eyes darted toward the window.

"Parker." Nate drew her attention back to him. "You asked Sterling to draw out a sketch of the man who attacked you."

Parker looked perturbed, her lower lip jutting out and Nate hastily continued.

"He thought that bringing in a hypnotist might help. If you're willing, that is. I know a hypnotist here in Boston we can trust. "

"What will he do?" Parker asked in a small voice.

Nate walked over to sit in the chair next to her. "It's completely harmless. He'll just put you into a calm state that will help you remember details. People really do remember better in the hypnotic state because you'll be able to ignore distractions. Sterling's willing to do the sketch."

"If he's good enough," Eliot grunted.

Parker grinned suddenly but it was Nate that answered.

"Oh, he's good. He is very good. Well, Parker?"

"Okay. I guess we can try it. When?"

"I'll set up an appointment. It probably won't be until tomorrow." He stopped, frowning.

"So what are we doing?" Parker asked, her eyes narrowing when no one spoke up. "What?"

"Parker, we have it under control. There really isn't anything for you to do." Nate fumbled to a halt at her now piercing glare.

"Parker." Sophie stepped forward hastily. "We just think that you shouldn't be involved in this. We can handle it. In fact right now we don't have anything for you to do."

"I can handle this!" Parker got to her feet, glowering at them all.

"As long as there aren't any forks in arm's reach," Eliot grunted.

"Eliot!" Sophie said sharply.

"What? Parker! Wait!"

But Parker was already gone.

ooOoo

Sterling relaxed against the heating pad he'd picked up on his way back to the hotel, one arm behind his head as he watched an episode of _Torchwood_. He was fairly comfortable, the iMac resting on his lap and a bottle of fresh mineral water on the table beside him. He'd have to do something about supper though ...

"Pizza?"

He just barely managed to suppress a jump, looking over his shoulder to see Parker at the window, a pizza box balanced in one hand. "How did you ... no. No, I don't even want to know." He looked from her to the pizza and shrugged. "Sure. Why not? I don't have any .... ahhhhh. Never mind."

Parker had pulled off her backpack and was taking out paper plates and napkins as well as a couple bottles of soda. Sterling sighed, reaching over to flip open the pizza box.

"Hawaiian Pizza?"

"Don't like it?"

"My son's favorite. I can eat it." Setting the iMac to one side, he reached for a piece. "What?" he asked, seeing the look on her face.

She pointed at the computer. "That looks like something Hardison would watch."

Sterling smirked. "Probably is," he said in amusement, reaching over the turn off the DVD.

Parker looked at him narrow-eyed, obviously suspecting he was concealing something. "Tell me about your son," she demanded abruptly.

"What?"

"Tell me about your son." She repeated then frowned. "I've never thought of you with a family."

Sterling swallowed the bite he'd just taken. "Why?" he asked bluntly.

Parker looked startled. "Well, because ..." She gestured helplessly.

"Evil Nate?"

Parker looked at him, narrow-eyed. "How ..."

Sterling grinned. "You haven't exactly been shy about that opinion."

"Oh. Right." She flushed slightly. "So?"

"So?" He sighed. "He's nine. Loves soccer." To his own surprise, Sterling found himself launching into a series of stories from Tommy's childhood.

Parker curled up in the chair, eating her third slice of pizza, watching Sterling as he told a story of teaching Tommy how to play soccer. He was different here, speaking of his son. Easy to laugh and more animated, the sharp lines of his face softened by memories. More, she thought, like Nate should be.

His voice, she found, was pleasant to listen to and she let it wash over her. It almost startled her when he asked her a question. "Do you play chess?"

She blinked in surprise. "No."

"Want to learn? Been ages since I played. Not since ..." He hesitated. "Since Nate and I fell out." There was real regret in his voice. "And if you're planning on sticking around might as well do something."

"I suppose so." She looked around doubtfully, "Do you have a board?"

"Use the computer." He grabbed the computer, setting it on the table between them. "Not as much fun really. I prefer a real board but a little hard to carry. Here."

Parker soon grew involved in the game as Sterling patiently taught her the various pieces and their moves. By the time Sterling called it quits, she had the basics down.

"It's almost midnight and I'm worn out." Sterling shut down the computer and rose, wincing as his back protested. "If you intend on staying, you can have the couch. Take a couple pillows and the comforter, if you want." He finished, not looking at the young woman. Grabbing the jogging pants he slept in and a t-shirt, which he normally wouldn't bother with but he felt more comfortable in if Parker really was staying, he went into the bathroom to change. When he returned it was to find Parker already cocooned in the comforter on the couch. Her clothing was in a heap on the floor nearby and she was peering at him almost defiantly from under a tousle of hair.

He sighed. "If anyone shows up with a shotgun and a priest, they are going to be seriously disappointed," he muttered and she surprised him with a quick grin before burrowing further under the comforter.

ooOoo

"What? Tommy?" Sterling came awake, pushing himself up. The sound he was hearing reminded him of a stint of time when Tommy was four and would wake up from nightmares. But Tommy wasn't here. Even so, the low whimpering continued.

He threw back the covers and sat up, looking over toward the couch. Parker was buried under the covers to the point where he could barely see her but he could see something lying on the ground near her. Slowly he stood, walking over as quietly as he could, reaching down to pick up the battered bunny from the ground. He studied it for a long moment then looked at the whimpering woman. She was still fast asleep but moving restlessly. After a moment's hesitation, he reached out to gently set the bunny in the crook of her arm.

Parker hugged the bunny close with a sigh, settling deeper into sleep and Sterling watched her for a long moment before returning to the bed. Lacing his fingers behind his head, he stared at the ceiling until, too tired to even think any longer, he rolled over and fell into his own restless sleep.

* * *

_In honor of returning from ConCon I am posting another part. The next part may not be posted for a couple of weeks. Please review!_


	5. Chapter 4

Sterling wasn't at all surprised to be awoken by pounding on the door. With a frustrated growl, he threw back the covers, cursing as pain flared in his back. Between it and his hand, he reflected, he was a bloody mess.

"Just a minute! I'm coming!" Taking the safety chain off the door, he started to open the door then jumped back as it flew open and a worried looking Nate walked in.

"Is Parker here?"

Sterling blinked. "Why would you think that?"

"Because we can't find her. Is she?"

"She ..." Sterling started to gesture toward the couch then let his hand drop with a sigh. "She was on the couch but looks like she's up and left." The comforter was neatly folded on the couch, the pillows stacked on top of it. "She came in through the window again. With pizza, no less." He looked up to meet Nate's narrowed-eyed look. "I didn't invite her, Nate. Short of throwing her back out the window, there's very little I could do. Have you tried keeping Parker out of where she wants to be?"

Nate hesitated then sighed. "All right, I get your point."

"Why are you here anyway? Coffee?" Walking over to the coffee maker, he flipped it on.

"No thanks. I just wanted to let you know that the hypnotist will be at the office at ten."

Sterling grunted as he walked back to pull the bed together. His restless sleep of the night before had twisted the sheets up. "I'm surprised you didn't send Spencer over. Apparently I still owe him for some dental work."

Nate gave a snort of amusement. "You do."

"I'm not going to apologize. Just be grateful I didn't call in the police right off. Or the FBI for that matter. Technically that's what I should have done."

Nate grimaced; knowing that was true then he paused, looking at Sterling. "So why didn't you?"

Sterling hesitated. "You can deny it all you want Nate, but we were friends once. I haven't been a very good friend these last few years and ..." He paused before shrugging. "I guess I was in some way trying to make up for that."

"But you alerted the police later."

Sterling stared at Nate in disbelief. "Damn right I did! You blew up the top floor of a building! Someone could have been killed, for God's sake! Me, my people, someone on the ground. There was glass everywhere!"

Nate winced at that but before he could speak, Sterling continued.

"Hell! There were three cars totaled and a dozen more with the glass blown out. It was a bloody miracle no one was injured. Not to mention the fact that that little stunt attracted the attention of the police and the FBI and Homeland Security. I couldn't ... no, I wouldn't cover up for you any longer! Not after that."

Nate stared at him and Sterling's lips thinned. He turned away, reaching for the pot of coffee and pouring himself a mug.

"We covered all damages." Nate pointed out defensively.

"And that makes it all right, heh?"

"We were ..." He stopped dead.

"Getting payback. Revenge." Sterling turned, cradling the mug in his hands and leaning against the counter. He flinched slightly as he leaned on the bruise and shifted. "Didn't it ever occur to you that maybe I had my own plan in place to get Blackpoole out of the company?" He paused, looking frustrated and Nate realized he hadn't meant to say that. "Christ, Nate! What the hell do you think you're doing? If I hadn't agreed to what you wanted, would you have kept the paintings? Punished the innocent along with Blackpoole?"

"Oh come off it, Sterling ..."

"The owners of those paintings weren't the enemy! And how about the people who would have lost their jobs because of it, heh? The curator? The museum workers? My men? Me? Whether you like it or not, I ... we ... were just doing our jobs. And we were obeying the law. Just because your four friends are trying to do good now doesn't change the fact that every one of them is wanted all over the world for crimes they did commit." He stopped suddenly, staring at the man he once called friend before setting the mug down and walking away, over toward the window. He stopped short of it and turned around again.

"Sooner or later, Nate, someone innocent is going to get hurt. You may justify it for what you think is the greater good but you know better." He hesitated for a long moment before asking in a low voice. "Would you have sacrificed me to get Blackpoole, Nate?"

Nate said nothing, his silence speaking volumes. They two men stared at each other until Sterling finally turned away. "Right. Ten you said? I'll be there."

Nate hesitated, cursing himself for feeling guilty. "Tell Parker if you see her. She's not answering her phone."

"Right." As the door closed behind the other man, Sterling stepped over to pour another mug of coffee. "You could use the stairs, you know."

"What's the fun in that?" Parker was already at the table, setting a bag on it.

"Fun?" He thought about the fact that his room was fourteen stories above the ground and shuddered.

"Yeah." She gave him a sudden mischievous smile. "You should try it."

"No," he said firmly. "Not in this lifetime, I'd rather face Spencer in a bare-knuckled fight." He set a mug at one side of the table and his own mug on the other. "Be right back. I'm going to take a shower and get dressed."

When he returned, it was to find food set out on the table and Parker slathering butter onto a roll. "So what do we have? Hmmmmm, very good." He reached for the butter packets, smearing butter on the pancakes.

They both ate in silence for several minutes then Sterling leaned back in his chair, absently rolling a sausage link in syrup. "So what are you doing here, Parker?" he finally asked. "Really doing here?"

Parker studied him, crumbling bacon between her fingers. After a moment, she looked down at the mess she was making and swept it up, dumping it back into the container. "They don't understand," she said to her hands.

Sterling took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. After a moment he reached over to lightly touch the back of her hand. She flinched but didn't pull her hand away. "I think I do," he said softly.

Parker nodded, giving him a timorous smile. "I know." She startled him by jumping up and digging into her backpack, finally turning with a folded wooden chess board in her hands.

"Should I ask where you got that?"

Parker bit her lip. "I borrowed Nate's."

Sterling laughed, shaking his head. "Okay. Fine. The pieces?"

Parker turned out to be a quick study but reckless with her pieces. Sterling patiently walked her through a couple games, showing her the best way to play her pieces. They were on their third game when Sterling glanced at his watch and grunted. "It's nine. We better be going if we want to get there by ten." He rose, reaching for his jacket. "Give me a sec." Grabbing up his backpack, he shoved his computer into it. "Where's my sketch pad? Thanks." He grabbed it from the chair she pointed to and slipped it into the pack. "Let's go."

ooOoo

Parker didn't bother to knock; she just opened the door and walked into Nate's condo, happily munching on the bearclaw she had insisted on buying from a street vendor. Sterling hesitated, still unsure of their uneasy truce before walking in, almost bumping into Parker, who had frozen just inside the doorway.

"What …" He stepped around her, following her eyes to the screens, his face tightening. The sketch he'd done long ago of the ring was on one of the screens. Reaching out, Sterling gripped Parker's shoulder and turned her to face him, away from the screens. He didn't say anything, just looked at her intently, waiting for the tenseness to leave her shoulders and the fierce look from her face. After a moment, he nodded and let his hand drop to snatch the remains of the bearclaw from her.

"Hey! That's mine," Parker said, watching in disbelief as he took a bite.

"So eat your other one." He walked over to the cluster of chairs facing the screens.

"I only bought one," she protested.

"The one you nicked while you were paying for this one." Shoving the last bit of bearclaw in his mouth, he swung off the backpack and set it next to a chair. "What?"

Hardison was looking from him to Parker, now happily munching on another bearclaw, and back again. "This is just so wrong on so many levels."

Sterling sighed. "Deal with it. Where is everyone anyway?" He sat in the chair, looking around.

"Around," Hardison mumbled, turning back to his computer.

Sterling rolled his eyes, exchanging a grimace with Parker, who had moved to sit on the counter. Movement caught his eye and he turned to look at the spiral staircase, eyes widening in surprise.

"Get your mind out of the gutter." Sophie snapped, trying to ignore the fact that she and Nate were walking down from his bedroom. The fact that she was wearing one of Nate's shirts didn't help.

"But it likes it there. It has so much fun." He grinned at her expression.

"I spilled something, okay? Nate just lent me a shirt. Don't you start!" She glared at Parker, who was giggling madly then at Hardison, who was devoting more attention then was needed to his computer.

"The doctor's going to be here any minute." Nate walked into the kitchen, reaching for the coffee. "Sterling, you stay quiet and just sketch."

"I know what to do, Nate," Sterling said curtly, his good humor fading as he reached down to pick up his backpack. Opening it, he pulled out the sketch pad and rummaged around for pencils.

When the doctor arrived a few minutes later, Nate didn't bother to introduce him and Sterling didn't insist. He simply requested a mug of coffee, which Nate brought over to set at his elbow. Absently he sharpened the pencils, watching as Sophie coaxed Parker to a chair nearby. Once again, the younger woman reminded him of a wild animal, ready to bolt at any moment. He caught her eye and smiled slightly, wanting to reassure her but not wanting to interfere.

Finally Parker was settled into the chair and Sterling opened the sketch pad to a blank page and waited. The doctor's voice caught his attention and he looked back. He was sitting in a chair next to Parker, who was curled up in her chair, her eyes closed as she breathed evenly.

"Now open your eyes, Parker," the doctor said, his voice soothing.

She obeyed, her eyes curiously blank.

"How old are you, Parker?"

"Twelve." Her voice was younger, higher than normal and Sterling suppressed a shiver, staring at the blank sheet of paper.

"Where are you living?"

"Camden. In Illinois. With the Nielsen's." She grimaced. "I didn't like them. Their friends are nasty." Her face changed, her eyes widening, fear etched in her face.

"Nothing can hurt you here, Parker. Stay calm," the doctor said in a soothing voice.

The woman's face smoothed.

"Tell me about this nasty friend."

"They took me on a trip." She smiled suddenly. "It was fun." The smile faded. "Except for the nasty man. Mrs. Nielsen brought him." She flinched suddenly. "Mrs. Nielsen called him Eddie and he's telling her to shut up. He's angry at her."

"Where did you go on vacation?"

"Los Angeles."

"Parker, the nasty man is on the other side of the room. He can't hurt you. He can't reach you. Can you see him clearly?"

Parker nodded.

"All right. Now he can't reach you. He's standing across the room. I want you to look closely at his face and describe it."

Parker frowned, looking uncertain then slowly, haltingly began to describe the man. Sterling listened, sketching out what he heard. Soon the image of a surprisingly pleasant-looking man, perhaps in his twenties, appeared. Aware of someone behind him, watching him as he sketched, Sterling took advantage of a lull to grab a pad of note paper on a nearby table. He quickly wrote out a short note and handed it back to whoever was behind him before returning to the sketch.

ooOoo

Eliot watched Sterling sketch, surprised. Nate had said he was good but he had had his doubts. Now he found himself revising his opinion of the man. He was so absorbed in watching that he was startled when Sterling grabbed a notepad and dashed off a quick note, thrusting it over his shoulder without even looking to see who was there. He took it, reading the scrawled message.

'_Have Hardison run off two copies of the design. Give one to me and the other to the doctor. Have him ask Parker about it.'_

Eliot moved over to where Hardison was working on a laptop, running searches and working his magic using what Parker was talking about. He showed him the note and Hardison nodded. A moment later he handed Eliot the two printouts.

ooOoo

"Do you remember this design, Parker?" The doctor handed the young woman the print out and she took it, looking at it without blinking.

"Yeah. He was wearing a chain with that on it." Parker's brow furrowed suddenly. "But it's not the same."

"How is it not the same?"

Slowly, haltingly Parker began to describe the minor differences. Sterling used a red pencil to mark out what shouldn't be there on his copy of the printout and penciled in what should be. He frowned at the differences, feeling a twinge of recognition but unable to pinpoint what it was.

After a moment he realized Parker was no longer speaking and he looked up to see that she was now lying on the couch as the doctor told her soothingly to go to sleep. Carefully he tore the sketch he'd made of Parker's attacker from the pad and offered it to Hardison. The hacker took it and scanned it in.

"I'll run this against every face recognition database I know of," the hacker said. "See if we get any hits. I'm running those designs as well."

Sterling nodded, handing him the altered print out. A low whistle caught his attention and he looked over to see Eliot jerk his head over toward the kitchen, where Nate was already waiting. He walked over to them; Hardison picked up his laptop and followed.

"Where's Sophie?" Sterling asked, his voice soft.

"Getting ready for her debut into Boston society."

"Excuse me?"

"I'll explain later. Hardison? What do you have?"

"Okay. Nielson's. Parker was with them for about three months but, according to reports, she was too much for them to handle and they sent her back. She was their last foster child. They were both killed in a car accident three weeks later. There's no report of any kind of abuse while in their care."

"Big surprise," Sterling muttered. Turning, he walked over the screens, comparing the original sketch of the design to the altered one.

"Something wrong?" Nate asked.

Sterling slowly shook his head. "Something about these … I don't know," he said at last before turning.

"Ahhh, damn," Hardison suddenly said. He looked up from his laptop quickly and over toward Parker.

"She's still asleep," Sterling said quietly. "What is it?"

Hardison hesitated, looking from him to Nate.

"Nate, you can't hide what you find from me. Not forever anyway."

"I don't plan to. I'd just like to have all the information rather than give it to you piecemeal."

"Nate, I …" Sterling started but Nate cut him off with a sharp slash of his hand.

"No, Sterling. You stay out of this."

"I can help, Nate," he insisted.

"You can help," Sophie's voice came from the stairs. "by keeping Parker occupied."

Sterling half-turned, obviously ready to protest and ended up whistling appreciatively.

"Sterling!" Nate hissed.

"What? I'm married, not dead."

Sophie paused to adjust a shoe, looking at Sterling speculatively before smiling. She was dressed in a classic little black dress, a short-skirted single-shoulder number that fit her perfectly.

"Why, thank you. I think." She straightened. "You can help by keeping Parker occupied," she repeated then sighed. "My eyes are up here, Sterling. A little higher."

"What? Oh, sorry." Sterling raised his eyes.

Sophie was startled to see a hint of mischief in the man's eyes. For a moment she thought of calling him on it then she caught the expression on Nate's face and suppressed a smile.

"Exactly how am I supposed to keep her occupied?" he asked.

"I'm sure you'll think of something. Just don't do anything that will land her in jail."

Sterling gave her a surly look. "I'm more worried about me ending up in jail," he muttered then frowned thoughtfully. Grabbing his jacket from where he'd left it, he pulled it on as he walked over to the couch. He hesitated, looking at his pack before shrugging and reaching down to touch Parker's shoulder lightly. "Come on, Parker. Wake up."

The woman was on her feet before he finished speaking, blinking the last of the sleep from her eyes.

"What?"

"The others want both of us occupied and elsewhere for a while." Sterling reached for Parker's jacket, tossing it to her. "So come on. We're going to a movie."

We are?" Parker pulled on her jacket as she followed him toward the door. "Which movie?"

"The new X-Men Origins. Tommy wants to see it but I want to check it out first. I saw it playing right down the street."

Parked stopped dead, a sudden grin splitting her face. "I love Storm!" She dashed past him as he opened the door, running down the stairs.

"Somehow I thought you would. We'll be back in a few hours." Sterling walked out, swinging the door shut behind him.

"I didn't necessarily mean …" Nate started but it was too late. Finally he sighed. "Well, at least they're busy. So what did you find, Hardison?"

"We lucked out." Hardison turned his laptop so they could see the screen. A mug shot of a young man bearing a remarkable resemblance to Sterling's sketch was on it. "I did the facial recognition searches on the LAPD's computers, narrowing the dates for the year when the Nielson's were there and this came up."

"So he is in the system," Nate said.

"Yeah. Petty stuff really. Solicitation of prostitute, possession, drunk and disorderly. Nothing major and nothing involving kids."

"The prostitutes," Eliot said. "How old were they?"

"Uhm … hell." Hardison scanned the information. "According to this they were all over eighteen but you know they probably had fake ID. The thing is …" Hardison hesitated, grimacing. "This guy's dead. Murdered. According to this information, which is decidedly sparse, he was found in some dump of a hotel with his throat cut and … ahhhh … his … ahhhh …." Hardison faltered to a halt and Eliot leaned forward to read.

"Heh." Eliot smirked. "His genitals were cut off and shoved in his mouth."

"Appropriate," Sophie murmured.

"Yeah." Hardison cleared his throat, eying Sophie uncertainly. "Okay, it was never solved. Not enough evidence, no witnesses, way too many suspects. You know, interestingly enough, it happened the same day the Nielson's were killed."

'Someone was cleaning up a mess," Eliot said abruptly.

'Just hang on." Nate raised a hand. "It could just be a coincidence." Eliot started to say something but Nate shook his head. "Go on, Hardison."

"The investigating officer was a Detective Jack Blaine, now retired. That's pretty much everything that's in this file."

"But not everything on the case," Eliot said. "Blaine would have taken notes."

"Yeah." Nate nodded. "What about possessions? What did the guy have with him when he was found?"

"Uhm." Hardison's fingers flew over the keyboard. "No ring listed. There is mention of a bruise … a line around the back of his neck as if something was jerked against the skin forcibly."

"Could be a chance thief," Nate said, though he didn't sound like he believed it. He sighed at the looks that remark got him. "Right. None of us believe that. From the look of it, this …" he leaned in to read the details. "Macintosh did something to piss the group off and they killed him for it. So we need to talk with Blaine. Hardison, find out where he lives and get us a flight there. And we'll need identification. I think FBI would be good. Then you'll have to drive Sophie to the fund-raiser."

"Hey." Hardison scowled at Eliot's smirk. "Fine. Blaine is now living in some small town outside of LA on a lake. Apparently does a lot of fishing. I'll get everything together and ready for your trip. You guys go pack. I'll have everything ready when you get back." He caught Sophie's look. "Won't take me very long. I'll leave everything here and go change to drive Sophie to the fund-raiser."

ooOoo

Three hours later Sophie sat on the couch, massaging her left foot. Tension had made her tighten her feet more than once, causing more pain then usual. Something about Montgomery had just rubbed her wrong ...

"You are worse than Tommy!" Sterling's voice came from the doorway and she looked up to see a grinning Parker walk in, Sterling right behind her. "How much did you eat anyway?"

"Not that much," Parker protested. "I mean ... there was the jumbo popcorn and one of those really big sodas and that box of whoppers and ..." Her voice trailed off. "But you ate some!"

Sterling shook his head.

"Okay, I ate a lot."

"And you're still hungry?"

"Well, not now." Parker grimaced at his grin. "Hi, Sophie."

"Good movie?"

Parker grinned. "Excellent movie!"

"You have any luck?" Sterling asked.

"Well, I managed to pluck some hairs from his jacket. They should be his. We packaged them up along with printouts of the DNA sequences of your attacker and dropped it off with a special courier. They're going to a private lab we use." She gave him a look, daring him to object but he only looked amused.

"Ugh. Now there's three of them!" Parker said suddenly, glowering at the screens.

Sterling turned to look, lips thinning at the sight of the three designs on the screens. His original sketch, the sketch modified by Parker's description, and a photo of yet another design, again with ever so slight differences. He studied them as he stripped off his jacket. Opening his pack, he pulled out his laptop and a flash drive, offering the latter to the hacker. "Mind transferring those images to that? I want to take a closer look at them." He sighed at Hardison's hesitation. "Look, I need something to do or I will lose my mind. This is fairly safe."

Hardison exchanged a look with Sophie, who shrugged. "Okay, fine." Hardison watched with half an eye as Sterling set up his computer. After a moment he offered the flash drive back and Sterling connected it to his computer. He worked in silence and Hardison found himself eyeing the other man, wondering what he was doing before turning back to his own work.

"Where's Parker?" Sophie asked suddenly and both men looked up, startled.

Sterling looked around. "Does she ever stay still for longer then two minutes?"

"No." Both Sophie and Hardison said, the latter not bothering to look up.

Hardison flipped through the security cameras. "She's on the roof," he finally said, putting the image on one of the screens. "Just sitting there."

Sterling hesitated, looking at the screen and for a moment Sophie wondered if he would go up there but eventually he turned back to his computer. She walked over to look over his shoulder.

"I'm impressed, Sterling. I'm lucky to remember how to turn my computer on."

Sterling chuckled. "What do you think, Sophie? You have a good eye for jewelry."

Moving a chair to sit next to the man, Sophie leaned in, studying the three images. "The differences are so small. A dark line here. Another here." She gestured. "No line there. I mean ..."

"What is it?" Hardison, who had been watching the two, said sharply and Sophie looked up, startled.

Sterling had gone still, staring at the things Sophie had indicated. His face had visibly paled and for a moment she was afraid he was going to pass out.

"Son of a bitch," he said softly. "Son of a bitch." He stood up, walking over to the screens. "Put those designs up here."

Hardison obeyed, too intrigued to feel any resentment at Sterling snapping orders. The three designs appeared side-by-side.

Sterling stared at them, studying all three one at a time. Finally he stopped in front of the newest one, the photo of Montgomery's ring. Leaning forward, he gestured with a finger. "Remove these parts here. Remove everything except these lines here."

Hardison snickered as he worked. "Looks like a stick man. More than one actually." There were three of the oddly formed stick men, set on a diagonal from the upper left to the lower right. He glanced at Sterling, who had straightened and was staring at the image on the big screen. His jaw was clenched and he looked angrier than either of them had ever seen him. His hand trembled slightly as he raised it, pointing at the first stick man.

"That is a J and that," he pointed at the last stick man, "is an M." He turned to look at Hardison. "And Montgomery's middle name starts with an L."

Hardison blinked before turning to his computer, bringing up the information he had compiled on Montgomery. "Yeah. Yeah, it does. Linden."

"Son of a bitch," Sterling muttered again. "Semaphore. It's a god damn fucking semaphore!" He slammed his hand against the wall hard. "It was right in front of us this entire damn time!"

"But you didn't know what to look for," Sophie said reasonably. "You couldn't." She gestured at the other symbols. "It's too well hidden in the design. Only by having more then one did you have any chance of spotting them."

Hardison, who had done a quick search on semaphore, was now bringing out the stick men in the other symbols. "Okay. If I'm reading these right then the initials in Parker's design are EAM and the one in yours are ..." He paused. "CLC." He flipped through the screens then scowled darkly. "The guy we think ..." He gestured in the vague direction of the roof and Parker. "His name is ... was Edward Arthur Macintosh."

Sterling straightened, his back to them, staring at the screens with their damning stick men. Hardison stared at him for a long moment before exchanging a worried look with Sophie. The woman shrugged helplessly then reached up to press on her ear bud. "Nate? Can you hear me?"

Hardison hastily reached over to put the conversation on speaker and Sterling finally turned, his face remote as he walked back over to sit at his computer.

"I can hear you fine, Sophie. What's up?"

"Sterling found something. Those designs aren't identical. Once Hardison removed the parts that were identical, we found initials in them."

"Initials?" Both Nate and Eliot said.

"Yes. It looks like the initials of the owners. Written in semaphore."

"Which isn't well-known," Nate commented.

"And well hidden."

"Well, that should help. Give me a call if you learn anything more."

"Right." Sophie let her hand drop as she looked at Sterling. The man was quietly running his hands over the keyboard. He wasn't typing; he was just stroking it, as if for comfort. His face was blank, his eyes too bright and she felt as if he would shatter if she touched him. She cleared her throat, turning back to Hardison. "Keep looking, Alec. Sterling, come with me."

He looked at her blankly.

"You need a drink and I need something to eat," she said firmly. "Those hors d'œuvres they served were too few and too salty. Come on. The bar downstairs has good food."

Sterling hesitated before shutting down his computer. Leaving it where it was, he grabbed his jacket and followed the woman from the office.


	6. Chapter 5

Sterling looked at the glass of brandy Sophie set in front of him. "Haven't eaten since breakfast," he said as he took up the glass.

Sophie nodded and gestured for a waitress. The young woman took the order and walked away. Leaning back, she cradled her own glass of tea and studied the man across from her. Sterling was slumped on his side of the booth, eyes blank as he rolled the depleted glass between his palms. Almost absently he emptied the glass.

"Do you want another?" Sophie asked.

"What?" Sterling looked at her, startled. "No. No, thanks." He gestured for the waitress. "Coffee please. Black. And could you just bring the pot?" Catching Sophie's eye, Sterling grimaced. "I've been drinking way too much lately," he admitted. "Thanks though. I needed that." He hesitated. "So ... Nate? He's really not drinking?"

"Not a drop since he left LA."

"Good for him. I'd always hoped ..." He started then shook his head. "Both of our lives went to hell pretty much at the same time. Too busy trying to save ourselves to worry about each other. You may not believe it but I really do regret that. Thank you." The last bit was said to the waitress, who was setting a cup of coffee at his elbow. He waited for her to leave before continuing. "I was too busy burying myself in work. It was one of the few things that kept the demons at bay." His lips twisted at his own wording. "By the time I realized how bad everything was, Nate was drowning himself in a bottle. And then it was too late."

"Did you try talking to him?"

"It was too late for talking. All he could think of was that I hadn't tried to help him when he needed it and he resented that. Maybe even hated me for it." He paused, staring into his cup. "On the flip side I guess I started to resent him as well. For not being there when I needed him and then for drowning himself in drink." He paused, his lips thinning. "Not that he could have done much. Which I knew, deep down but still. It was easier, I think, to hate each other."

"It usually is. You made an easy target for Nate and in turn, he made an easy target for you."

Sterling grunted, eyeing the burger he'd ordered, apparently not realizing how large it was going to be. "You know, I've managed to lose over a stone. This is not going to help keep it off," he muttered.

"I thought you looked thinner." Sophie, well aware of the size of the burger at this bar, had ordered a half-burger. She looked up from it to eye Sterling thoughtfully. "Actually, you almost look too thin."

Sterling grimaced at her and took a bite. "Excellent." He said once he swallowed. "Good thing this isn't closer to home or I would gain all that weight back." He reached for a napkin to wipe juice from his chin. "So what happened with Montgomery?"

"He was perfectly polite but he gave me the creeps."

Sterling arched an eyebrow at her. "Woman's intuition?"

"If you want to call it that. He was just ... too attentive. Too much the perfect gentleman."

"Over-acting?"

"Something like that, yes." Sophie's phone rang and she hastily dug it out, flipping it open. "Yes? All right. What do you want? Okay. I'll get it ordered. See you later." She closed her phone and gestured for the waitress. "Could we have a super-burger with the works and a side order of fries to go please? Thank you." She caught Sterling's inquiring look. "Alec is hungry."

"How does he stay thin eating all that?"

"One of those metabolisms. Him and Parker. There are days when I could strangle them both for it." She reached for the ketchup.

Sterling grunted, eyeing his burger before taking another bite. "So now what?" He finally asked.

"We wait for the results of the DNA tests. We have a rush on it so we should get it fairly quickly." For a moment she thought Sterling was going to pry but he turned his attention to his burger instead. Sophie poked at her own burger. "Nate said that Parker slept in your room last night," she said abruptly.

Sterling looked at her, eyebrow arched and a faint smile curving his lips. "She slept on the couch. I don't know what she wearing. She was under the comforter before I got out of the bathroom. And if you're worried about her virtue, don't be." He paused, pursing his lips in thought. "Parker ... Parker's just looking for someone who understands what she went through. What she's going through." Sterling set the burger down, crossing his arms on the table. "At first I thought Nate had told Parker to keep an eye on me but now … I suspect she's just looking for someone who understands and who won't treat her as if she'd going to break."

Sophie flushed, realizing that they had been treating Parker gingerly. "How did you handle it?" she asked without thinking.

"Oh, I was lucky. I got therapy right off. And I had good support in the Barnabys and the Sterlings. I'm not saying it was perfect or that it all worked out. I had a tendency to nick things. Took me a while to work out that stealing and begging wasn't something you should do, especially after years of it being a way of life." He paused, rolling a fry in ketchup. "Took me even longer to realize that abuse was not a normal way of life. After a couple years I managed to stop hoarding food and stop cringing every time someone raised an arm or made a quick gesture."

Sophie watched him as he picked at his burger. "How long did it take you to sleep on the bed rather than under it?" she asked quietly.

Sterling looked at her, startled.

"I worked with abused children in England years ago. A cover, not a con," she said hastily at the look that crossed his face. "I like to think I did some good."

Sterling hesitated. "A little over a year," he finally admitted. "Under the bed or in a closet." He managed a wan smile. "At least I managed to stay in the house rather than hiding outside. Well, after the first few weeks, that is." He paused, studying his plate before looking up. "At the moment, Parker is very much that sometimes annoying little sister who follows you around." He smiled suddenly. "She reminds me of Cully. The Barnabys' daughter. She was born a few weeks after I moved in with the Sterlings."

"I never thought of you having a family." Sophie admitted as she finally took a bit from her burger.

"Makes it a little easier to dislike me, I should think." Sterling pulled his phone from the breast pocket of the jacket next to him and flipped through it before handing it to her. "Tess."

The picture was of a lovely woman with long wavy blond hair and an exasperated look, as if she'd been caught unawares. She had a streak of paint on her cheek and was reaching up to push back her hair with the back of a wrist as she glowered at the picture-taker.

"She makes specialized jewelry. Does a lot of commission work for various studios. Costume jewelry," he added hastily, remembering who he was talking to.

Sophie twitched an eyebrow at him and grinned. "Some of that costume jewelry can be worth quite a bit," she said in a teasing voice.

Sterling gave her a sharp look. "Not enough to interest you."

"How did you meet?" Sophie asked as she handed the phone back.

Sterling took it back, looking at the picture with a faint smile. "I was, ahhh, traveling across the States. Randomly really. Just looking at jewelry. Jewelry designs. It was stupid. One in a trillion chance of stumbling on that design but I was young and restless and needed to do something. It was in Texas. Small jewelry store." He smiled, lost in memories as he flipped through the pictures again. "That's Tommy." There was a hint of pride in his voice.

Sophie blinked, reflecting that Nate was right. There was no doubting that Tommy was Sterling's son. Same features, same eyes though Tommy's were a startling blue compared to his father's hazel eyes.

"He really does look like you," Parker said particularly in Sophie's ear and both she and Sterling jumped.

"Where did you ...." Both Sophie and Sterling started then they caught themselves and looked at each other.

"Never mind." Sterling sighed, reflecting that he was saying that a great deal where this young woman was concerned. "How long have you been here?"

Parker grinned as she slipped into the booth next to the older woman. "Long enough. Annoying little sister?" She repeated, snatching several fries from Sterling's plate.

Sterling scowled at her. "Yes. Very annoying. Want to order something?"

She gave him a dazzling smile. "No, this is fine."

Sterling and Sophie exchanged amused looks.

"So what's the plan?" Sterling reached for some fries, glaring at Parker as she snatched a few from right under his fingers.

"There is none."

Sterling studied her as he swallowed a fry. "Look, I know you don't trust me worth a damn ..."

"Believe it or not, that doesn't have a thing to do with it. Right now we're not finding out anything that you don't already know. Alec's checking into a few other things. He may have something for us tomorrow," Sophie said firmly. "Eliot and Nate won't be back at least until tomorrow. Depending on what they find."

Sterling hesitated. "This is damn hard for me," he said abruptly. "Staying out of it and letting you do all the work."

"But you don't know what to do," Parker said reasonably. "If you did you wouldn't be here asking us to help you. What?"

Both Sophie and Sterling were staring at her in mute surprise.

"Nothing," Sterling said at last then, after a moment's hesitation, he continued. "I keep having to revise my opinion of you."

"I'm not as stupid as you thought I was?" Parker said without rancor.

Sterling winced. "Not stupid. Never stupid," he corrected. "Just … not as naive as I first thought."

Parker flashed him a grin then eyed his hamburger thoughtfully.

Sterling quickly picked up his hamburger, glowering at her teasing smirk. After a moment he shoved his plate with the remains of fries toward her. "So are you showing up on my balcony again tonight?" he asked.

"Well, if you don't want me showing up you could lock the balcony door."

Sterling choked and coughed, finally managing to swallow the mouthful of burger he'd taken. "It _was_ locked!"

Parker frowned. "Oh. Right."

Sterling started to laugh and Parker grinned back. Sophie just sighed and shook her head. If anyone had told her she'd be sitting at a booth having a meal with Sterling and actually enjoying it, she would have thought they were insane.

"You had to pick it!" Sterling pointed out.

"I know. I know. Wasn't that hard."

"Fourteen floors above the ground. I doubt they were too worried about someone picking that lock. Want the rest of this?" Sterling offered her what remained of the burger.

"Sure." Parker took it without hesitation and began to eat while Sterling turned back to the fries.

"What's wrong?" he asked Sophie, who had been watching with a thoughtful frown.

She shook her head and opened her mouth then just shook her head again. Giving up she turned her attention to her food.

Parker snickered and Sterling gave her an amused look. "If you're sleeping on my couch again bring pajamas to sleep in."

"What do you think I was sleeping in?"

"Knowing you probably nothing."

Parker squirmed. "I snuck one of your t-shirts," she finally admitted.

Sterling shook his head. "You're not much shorter than I am. Bring pajamas." He looked up as the waitress brought Hardison's order to the table. "How are the sundaes here? You two want one?"

Sophie shook her head while Parker nodded enthusiastically.

"I'll take Alec's food to him," Sophie said. "Parker?"

"What? Oh." Parker slid out of the booth, letting Sophie out before returning to her seat.

"We should have more tomorrow. Rather, Alec should have more tomorrow. So just come over in the morning." She turned and walked for the door.

"Hey! Wait a minute!" Sterling called after her. "What about the bill?"

"Consider it part of your fee!" She called back over her shoulder as she pushed open the door.

Sterling eyed the remnants of their meal and sighed. "Be cheaper just to pay a fee." He muttered.

Parker snickered and ordered a double-sized banana split.

ooOoo

Hardison looked up as Sophie walked in, walking over to set the carry-out on a small table next to him, safely away from the electronics.

"Where's Sterling?"

"Still down at the bar."

Hardison looked at her inquiringly.

"Eating dessert. With Parker."

"Oh?"

"Nothing sinister or at least I don't think so." She sat in one of the nearby chairs, tucking her legs under her. "They have common ground. They can relate to each other on a level none of us can."

Hardison frowned at that. "How do we know he's not going to take advantage of her in some way?"

"We don't. Anymore than he can be certain we aren't going to take advantage of the information we're getting on him in some way."

Hardison opened his mouth to protest then paused. "Right," he said at last. "I got you. Catch 22."

"Finding anything out?" Sophie nodded at his computer.

Hardison eyed his computer with a frown. "I don't know," he admitted. "I've got searches running literally everywhere. I may have something here by tomorrow morning, depending."

"Sterling will probably be over in the morning." Sophie rose.

"And Parker?"

Sophie hesitated. "Parker will probably stay in his hotel room again. I don't know why." She added hastily at the look that crossed the young hacker's face. "I think it's nothing more than company. Sterling …" She paused, finally shaking her head. "As odd as this may sound, I think they respect each other. Sterling actually managing to catch Parker … well, that impressed her. And now they're both dealing with old and painful memories. Memories none of us can understand really."

"Which is something I'm very grateful for. But Sterling? I mean, the guy isn't exactly the … well, the most empathetic person."

Sophie opened her mouth then paused, thinking back over what she'd seen of Sterling over the past couple of days. "I don't think we know him well enough to judge him," she said at length. "All we really know is what we've been told and what we've seen in his actions concerning us. And you have to admit, we are all a little biased against him."

"With good reason. When this all over you can bet he's going to be right back trying to catch us."

Sophie spread her hands helplessly. "And we'll be right back running cons."

Hardison frowned as he thought this over, finally shaking his head. "What are you going to do now?"

"Go home. Take a nice long bubble bath. Eat a sinfully large amount of ice cream. Relax." She rose. "Call me if you find anything."

"Right."

ooOoo

"Sterling? Sterling, wake up."

A finger poked at him and he stirred briefly before borrowing deeper under the covers.

"Sterling!" The finger poked harder. "Damn it!" Hands grabbed the covers and yanked them off.

"What?" He sat up, eyes blinking open. The room was dark and he looked around wildly, finally seeing a vague outline. "Parker?"

"Yeah. What's wrong?"

"It's dark! I can't see anything. What time is it?" He looked around, finally spotting the clock.

"3:20." Parker said as he squinted bleary-eyed at the clock. "Now wake up!" She turned on the light.

"Whoa!" He threw up a hand to shield his eyes, peering around it at Parker. The young woman was dressed in what he recognized as her work clothes and he straightened in alarm.

"What did you do?" He glanced at the couch, seeing the pillows and comforter all jumbled together there. "You ... you were sleeping. Weren't you?"

"I couldn't sleep." Parker stooped, straightening with an expensive-looking travel bag in her hands. She tossed it onto the bed. "I kept thinking about what Sophie said. You know, about Montgomery being ... creepy."

"You heard that?" He looked at the bag on his bed. "Wait a minute. What did you do?"

"I snuck into Montgomery's place."

"You did what!" He swung his legs off the bed and pushed himself to his feet. "You went to Montgomery's? Are you nuts?"

Parker frowned thoughtfully. "Well. Yeah. Sort of."

That stopped Sterling in his tracks and he stared at her in blank astonishment.

"But I'm not stupid. Remember? Montgomery wasn't home. In fact, he's left the States. Off to Europe. Security was tight but I've seen better." She half-turned to gesture at the bag. "I found that in a safe under his bed."

"Under his bed?" Sterling looked at the bag with a frown.

"Hey, sure. Sophie says that's where men keep their … well, their kinky things."

Sterling opened his mouth to protest then, thinking of what was under his bed, closed it. Of course half that kinky stuff belonged to his wife but still … He hoped he wasn't blushing but turned away just in case. To cover his embarrassment, he walked over to the coffeemaker and started to get it ready for the morning. "So why did you bring it here?"

"Nate's in LA and, well, you're sort of …" Her voice trailed off.

"Evil Nate?" Sterling said in bemusement. When Parker didn't respond, he looked over to see her looking at him with an intense frown.

"The other Nate," she finally said, almost muttering. "Just ... the other Nate."

Sterling stared at her for a long moment, surprised to feel a tightness in his throat. He looked away, down at the coffeemaker, finally turning it on. Waking back to the bed, he grabbed his shoes and sat down to put them on, eyeing the bag as he did so.

"Can you open that lock?" he asked.

"Yeah, sure." She walked over to pull the bag close, examining the lock closely. "Nate said you picked the lock into his place."

"Yeah. He needs a better one."

"I'll look into it." Parker muttered as she worked the lock. "You can't pick this one?"

Sterling chuckled. "Haven't really kept in practice."

Parker paused, looking at him narrow-eyed. "Why don't I believe that?" she said before turning her attention back to the lock. As she worked Sterling examined the bag.

It was obviously expensive, made of stiff leather, tawny in color and about the size of a carry-on. He reached out to touch it and Parker scowled at him.

"Fingerprints."

"Oh. Right." He returned to studying the bag thoughtfully. "I wonder how much he paid for this thing."

"Ugh. It's worth it. This lock is a tough one. Can you order room service at this time of night?"

"What? Oh. You're hungry. Let me see what I might have." Sterling rose, walking over to open the small refrigerator. He pulled out leftover pizza, frowning at it thoughtfully. "Cold pizza okay?"

"Yeah, sure."

"Good. Because that's all I have. Here." He set the pizza on the table and turned around to see her pulling the bag open, eyeing the contents with a frown. "You eat then get some sleep. I'll go through that."

She looked at him narrowly. "What do you expect to find?"

"I don't know and I don't need an audience when I find it." He glowered at her and she glowered back, her lower lip protruding. After a moment he sighed. "Parker, please." His voice was tired and she blinked at him in surprise.

"Okay." She said at last. "I suppose …" Her voice trailed off and she rose, grabbing her pack and disappearing into the bathroom.

"Hey! Got an extra pair of gloves?"

Parker reappeared, digging in her bag. Finally she offered him a pair of gloves, more then a little snug, and vanished back into the bathroom.

ooOoo

When Parker woke up a few hours later it was to see Sterling fully dressed, and sitting at the table with the contents of the bag sorted on it. She sat up, blinking in surprise when she realized that the bag itself had been skillfully and completely taken apart, the pieces neatly stacked on the bed. A duffel she hadn't seen before was sitting on the bed and a box of latex gloves was on a nearby chair.

Sterling glanced at her. "Morning, sleepyhead. It's almost eight-thirty."

"Eight-thirty?" She sat up, blinking the sleep from her eyes. "Really? Can I order breakfast?"

Sterling frowned. "We'll grab something on the way. You better get dressed."

Parker opened her mouth to protest then changed her mind. Grabbing clothing from her pack, she darted into the bathroom and was out again in two minutes. By then Sterling was carefully setting everything, including the pieces of the bag, into the duffel.

"Did you go out?" she asked as she pulled on her shoes.

Sterling grunted. "Only to the drugstore around the corner. Those damn gloves you gave me were cutting off my circulation."

Parker snickered. "Sorry about that." Her amusement quickly faded. "So what did you find out?"

Sterling hesitated then shook his head. "I'll explain when we joined up with the others."

"Sterling …"

"Parker, please." Sterling zipped the duffel closed and turned to drop it on the bed. Only then did he peel off the gloves. "I don't want to go over it twice. Besides I wasn't able to look through everything. The CDs are encrypted. Hardison will have to crack them. I didn't want to take a chance and do them myself."

"Could you have?"

"Could I have what? Oh. Cracked them." Sterling hesitated then shrugged. "Maybe. If I had my other computer. That one," he nodded at the laptop. "is my personal one without any of the bells and whistles my work one has." He shot her a look. "And I have friends who could do it as well. Of course they are in LA."

"Bet they're not as good as Hardison," Parker muttered.

Sterling grinned. "Maybe," he said in a drawn-out manner. Grabbing his backpack, he swung it onto his back and grabbed up the duffel. "Come on."


	7. Chapter 6

Nate stared out of the hotel window and over the city, wishing he had a drink. He hated this city. All it held was bad memories.

"Remind me to kill Hardison when we get back," Eliot growled as he emerged from the bathroom.

"What?" Nate turned. "Why?"

"Did you see the names he used for us?"

"Oh right. Just deal with it, okay?"

Eliot gave him a sharp look. "You okay?"

"This. All this. Helping Sterling."

Eliot scowled darkly. "Yeah, well. Don't think of it that way. Think of it as helping Parker."

Nate hesitated. "Okay, that works." He turned to look back over the city. "He has a place near here. An apartment he used when he stayed in town during the week. Nothing fancy. They let me and Maggie stay there for a while after we lost our place. And it was closer to …" He cut off that train of thought and frowned. "From the sound of it, he's living there now."

Eliot eyed the other man thoughtfully. "Where does his family live?"

"Just outside the city. Refurbished farm house. Maggie stayed with them … with Tess, I guess … after everything fell apart and we broke up."

"Hey. You gonna be okay?" Eliot asked again.

Nate slowly nodded but his thoughts were miles away and years in the past.

_They met often on the rooftop of the IYS building. A chance to unwind and talk about cases, comparing notes and trying to one up each other. Jim would nurse his watered-down Scotch and Nate would down a couple drinks without the water and they'd end up with Jim driving him home. If he'd had more to drink then he normally did, Jim would sack out on their couch. More often than not, they'd end up talking the night away, much to Maggie's annoyance._

_One night, when he'd come up, it was to find Jim standing near the edge of the roof, looking over the city. Something about his stance suggested deep thought and even Nate offering him his drink hadn't shaken him from it. It hadn't been until the sun was finally setting that Jim had walked over to join him, settling into one of the lawn chairs they had dragged up years ago. He'd taken the glass but hadn't taken a drink, just rolled the glass between his hands._

_"Do you think," he said suddenly, startling Nate with his intensity. "that sons are destined to be like their fathers?"_

_Nate stared at him, waiting for the punch line but the serious look on the other man's face kept him from making a glib remark. Instead he thought back on his own father and almost winced. "No. No, I don't. Sometimes," he raised his glass but didn't take a drink as he stared at the sunset thoughtfully. "Sometimes I think fathers are meant to be examples. Sometimes they're example of what you should be and other times they're examples of what you shouldn't be." He looked at the other man with a frown. "What brought this on?"_

_Jim had shrugged, his eyes skittering away but not before Nate had seen the uncertainty in them then Jim was talking about his most recent case involving some cat burglar who had stolen a painting from right under the owner's nose and the question was forgotten. That night was one of the rare ones where Jim drank too much and they both ended up taking a taxi to the apartment he used when he stayed in town._

Three weeks later, Jim and Tess had announced that she was pregnant. By then Nate had forgotten the conversation_, _had in fact forgotten it until this very moment.

ooOoo

"You want me to do what?" Sterling looked at Parker in disbelief.

She swallowed the bite of bearclaw she'd just taken and repeated what she had said, more slowly this time. "Pick the lock."

"Why me? Don't you have a key?"

She shrugged. "I don't know where it is and I promised not to pick the lock into Nate's place anymore."

"So you want me to do it."

"Well ... sure. Why not?"

Sterling paused, turning that over in his head before sighing. "Sure. Why not?" he muttered. "You know, he's not going to be any happier with me doing it." Setting down what he carried, he pulled his lock pick kit from the inside pocket of his jacket.

"But you didn't promise him you wouldn't," Parker pointed out.

He gave her a sharp look before finally shrugging. "True enough. Why don't you call Hardison and Sophie and ask them to come over?"

"Okay." Parker pulled out her phone, speed-dialing a number as she watched Sterling work. "Sophie? Could you come over to Nate's? We found something. We … me and Sterling. We aren't in Nate's place yet. Sterling's picking the lock. Because I promised I wouldn't. It's taking him a lot longer then it would take me … well, it is!" This last bit was said in response to the look Sterling gave her. "I suppose I could have taken him over to my place and called you guys to come over there but I thought you might be upset about that. And I was right." She pulled the phone from her ear and glowered at it before putting it back to her ear. "Just come over, okay? And call Hardison and ask him to come over as well." With that she flipped the phone closed and put it away. "It's taking you long enough."

"Shut up," Sterling muttered.

"How long did it take you the first time?"

Sterling didn't answer. A couple minutes passed.

"Maybe you should try …"

"I don't need a back seat lock picker," Sterling snarled. "Eat your bearclaw."

"I did."

Sterling's hands stilled and he turned to look at her.

"Oh. Right," Parker muttered as she pulled the second bearclaw from her jacket pocket where it had so conveniently ended up. She'd barely taken a bite when Sterling grunted, straightening to open the door.

"Voila!" He shoved the door open wider and made an 'after you' gesture.

"Still took you long enough."

Sterling scowled at her back as she entered then shrugged. Grabbing the duffel and bag of groceries, he headed straight for the kitchen. "You want eggs and bacon?" he asked.

Parker waved the bearclaw at him and he sighed. "Right."

ooOoo

Sophie opened the door to Nate's condo to see Sterling in the kitchen at the stove, stirring something in a skillet. At the sound of the door opening he looked over his shoulder at her.

"Want some breakfast?"

"What are you making?"

"My wife's morning eggs. Consisting of eggs, cheese, onions, and bacon with a side of hash browns. Actually she usually pours it over the hash browns."

Sophie hesitated. "I'll take some without the hash browns."

"Me too." Parker piped up and Sophie looked around, finally spotting her perched on the stairs up to Nate's bedroom.

"You said you didn't want any," Sterling said.

"Well …"

"But luckily I didn't listen and made plenty."

Parker grinned at that.

"Did you know there's pretty much nothing but orange soda in the refrigerator? Luckily we stopped on the way and picked up some food."

"Nate usually eats downstairs or Eliot brings something over."

"Yeah. I saw the freezer."

Sophie looked at Parker, making a gesture at her to indicate she had something on her face. "So what's all this about?"

Recognizing the gesture, Parker licked a crumb from her lip. "Just some stuff I found at Montgomery's place. Sterling thought …"

"What?" The word was almost a scream and she whirled to glare at Sterling. "Damn it, Sterling! What do you think you were doing, sending her there ..."

There was a sharp clatter as Sterling dropped the skillet onto the stove and spun to glare at her. "I did not send her anywhere! I didn't even know she'd gone! I was asleep, damn it! And I thought she was too!"

"Sophie!" Parker was glaring at her as well. "It was my idea. He didn't even know I'd gone until I woke him up." She paused, her eyes widening. "Sterling …"

Sterling swore, spinning to snatch up an oven mitt and using it to grab the skillet from the stove. He dropped it into the sink and flipped on the water, stepping back as steam rose from the over heated metal. After a moment he looked up to meet Sophie's eyes, his expression angry.

"I did not tell Parker to do anything. I did not suggest she do anything. We did not discuss Montgomery at all. What she did was her own idea." With that he turned back to shut off the stove. He didn't turn back and Sophie could see the tenseness in his shoulders.

"I do have them, you know," Parker said crossly. "Ideas of my own. There wasn't any danger … well, not really. Montgomery's left the country and the security was lax. I wanted to look around and …"

Sophie swallowed hard, glancing at Sterling's back, thinking she should apologize but finding she couldn't. Not to _Sterling_, of all people.

"All right, fine." The tone of her voice said it was anything but, though she was willing to overlook it for now. "What did you find?"

"Sterling will explain once Hardison is here and we can connect with Nate and Eliot." Parker glanced over to Sterling. "I take it breakfast is ruined?"

Sterling gave a sharp bark of laughter and turned to look in the sink. "Along with the skillet. Hope it wasn't a favorite of anyone's." He ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. "I'll make some more."

By the time Hardison arrived, the three of them were sitting at the breakfast bar, the contents of the second skillet divided between them. Parker had made toast, which seemed the sum of her cooking skills. None of them were talking; Sophie uncertain as to what say and the other two still visibly stung by her outburst.

"So." Hardison looked from one to the other. "What's up?"

Sophie shoved her plate away. "Parker found something at Montgomery's that they want to …"

"Excuse me? Montgomery's? What the hell were you doing there?" Hardison turned an angry glare toward Sterling but before he could say anything more Parker slammed both hands onto the counter.

"Does everyone think I'm stupid!" she half-shouted.

"I don't," Sterling muttered, not looking up from his plate. "Not anymore."

"Well, apparently my team mates do. They all seem to think I couldn't have come up with the idea of sneaking into Montgomery's on my own."

"No. No, Parker," Hardison said hastily. "I just assumed that … I mean …" He looked desperately at Sophie.

"You thought Sterling had suggested I sneak into Montgomery's. Well, he didn't. He was asleep. And I don't want to explain this again! So," she looked at Sophie narrow-eyed. "Maybe before we talk with Nate and Eliot you should explain it so they don't automatically assume it was Sterling's idea."

"Are you sure about that?" Hardison asked. "I mean, if he suggested …" His voice trailed off under Parker's glare.

"He did not suggest it. We did not discuss Montgomery. I thought of it after seeing Montgomery on TV …"

"You didn't mention that," Sterling said in surprise.

"Didn't I?" Parker frowned. "Well, you were asleep but I couldn't sleep so I turned on the TV real low and there was something on the news about members of some organization heading to Europe for a five day conference and Montgomery was mentioned. I figured it was a good time to check out his place."

"What kind of conference?" Sophie asked and Parker shrugged.

"I'll check it out." Hardison walked over to set up his laptop.

Sterling rose, picking up his empty plate and walking over to wash it.

"Okay, here we go," Hardison said. "Yeah, he is headed to Paris for an international conference on child abuse …"

"What?" There was a clatter as Sterling dropped the plate he was washing. "What kind of conference?" he said sharply, turning to look at the younger man.

"Ahhhh. Child abuse." Hardison looked at him warily.

"I … see." Sterling gripped the back of a stool, his knuckles whitening with the pressure.

Parker looked at him, expressionless. "You found something bad," she said, her voice small and very young.

"I … yes, Parker. I did." He looked at Hardison, his eyes hard. "Call Nate and Spencer. Get them on board and we'll talk."

Hardison gave him a resentful look but Sterling just stared at him. When Parker added in her own glare he caved. "All right, fine," he muttered.

Sterling glanced around the kitchen. He'd cleaned up as he cooked so the only dirty dishes were the ones they had just eaten from. Deciding they could be taken care of later, preferably by someone else, he walked around the breakfast bar and went to sit in the chair across from Hardison.

Parker pushed herself away from the bar and walked over to collapse onto the end of the couch closest to Sterling. Sophie looked at them both, suppressing a sigh before joining Parker on the couch.

"Hardison?" Nate's voice came over the speaker phone. "What's up?"

Sophie leaned forward, gesturing for Hardison to let her talk. "Nate? Listen, something's come up." She shot a quick look at Sterling. "Before we start, I need to stress that Sterling didn't instigated anything ..."

Sterling gave her an exasperated look and shook his head in disgust.

"What? What are you talking about?" Nate said sharply.

Sterling cut in before Sophie could continue. "Parker raided Montgomery's place last night. Before you start throwing around accusations, I did not tell her to do it. I did not suggest it. I didn't even know she did it until she woke me up."

There was a long pause.

"I see." Nate's voice was acid. "Sterling, we'll talk about this later ..."

"No, we will not," Sterling said, his voice equally acidic. "Now shut up and listen. Parker."

Parker looked at him, one moment somber; the next startling him with a dazzling smile. Leaning forward, she outlined what she had done, from seeing the news to deciding to sneak into Montgomery's place to actually doing it.

"The security's very good but I've seen better. He's got a really fancy computer, nothing near what Hardison has but …"

"Did you get anything off of it?" Hardison interrupted and she shot him a cross look.

"No. I didn't touch it. I was looking for safes. I found two. A big obvious one in his office and another concealed in the master bedroom's closet. The office one had ledgers and, well, business stuff in it. The other one had jewelry and bank books in it. I didn't want to take any of those because I figured someone other than Montgomery might use those safes."

"You didn't take pictures of the contents?" Sterling asked.

Parker flushed. "Forgot my camera," she muttered then stuck her tongue out at his grin. "I finally found a very well concealed safe under the bed in the master bedroom."

"Under his bed?" Eliot's voice was amused.

"Well, yeah. That's where Sophie said guys hide their kinky stuff."

"Parker, that's … not exactly true." Hardison managed a passable laugh. Nate and Eliot were noticeably quiet. Sterling leaned back in the chair, smiling smugly.

"It's not? Where do you hide your kinky stuff?"

"I don't have any kinky stuff." Hardison scowled at Sterling's smirk and turned his attention back to his laptop, muttering under his breath.

Parker eyed the young man with a speculative gleam in her eye and Sterling cleared his throat.

"She found a bag in that safe." Sterling took up the story. "A very expensive, hand-made bag. She brought it to me. She picked the lock and I looked through what was inside." Sterling glanced at the duffel next to him. Reaching for his backpack, he pulled out the box of gloves. "Here. I don't think any of you want your fingerprints turning up on any of this stuff." Pulling out a pair of gloves for himself, he opened the duffel and starting to pull out items, stacking them neatly on the coffee table. "At first all I found was … well, clothing, jewelry, currency from about a half-dozen countries. Then I took the bag apart. Piece by piece. There were very cleverly hidden pockets throughout it. I found a passport and ID made out to Jeffrey Lawrence Morgan." He pulled them out.

"Let me see those." Hardison stretched out a hand.

Sterling glanced at his bare hand then pointedly at the gloves. Hardison scowled but grabbed a couple of gloves and put them on. Only then did Sterling hand him the items.

"And what else?" Nate said curtly.

Sterling glared at the speaker phone. "Some CDs." He set those on the table then hesitated for a long moment before pulling out a small book and offering it to Sophie. "And this."

Having already slipped on gloves, Sophie took the book and opened it. The next second she slammed it shut and dropped it onto the table, slapping her hand over it to keep a curious Parker from picking it up. Her eyes snapped up to meet Sterling's, for the first time seeing the quiet agony reflected there.

Hardison's hands stilled. "What?" He asked, his eyes flitting from Sophie to Sterling and back again.

Parker, realizing that Sophie wasn't going to let her look at the book and suddenly wondering if she really wanted to, sank back into the couch, drawing her legs up and wrapping her arms around them. Her eyes shifted from Sophie to Sterling.

Silence descended, Sophie staring at Sterling and Sterling staring back. For a brief moment they achieved perfect understanding.

"I'm sorry," Sophie said suddenly. "I don't think you had anything to do with Parker going to Montgomery's. You wouldn't have done that. I don't think you _could_ have done that."

Surprise flared in Sterling's eyes and he looked away, the muscles in his face working.

"Sophie?" Nate's voice came over the speaker phone. "What is it?"

Sophie shook herself and looked down at the book, shuddering. "It's ..." She forced herself to pick up the book, thumbing rapidly through it then closing it, pressing it between her hands, though her expression suggested she wanted nothing more than to burn it. "I guess you might call it a brag book. From the look of it, Montgomery likes young girls. Dark young girls. Brazilian maybe. Philippine? Very exotic. Very pretty. Very …" She shuddered again. "Very young. At least," she glanced at the book then away. "They are all dressed. Mostly."

A sound came over the speaker phone that had all of them staring at it in surprise.

Sterling leaned toward Parker. "Is someone growling?" he asked in a murmur.

"Eliot," Parker murmured back.

"Right." He leaned back. "Look, we suspected this ..."

"Doesn't make it any easier." Eliot snarled.

"No it doesn't. Look, I'm not sure how we can handle this ..."

"_We_ won't." Nate said sharply. "You're staying out of this. Remember?"

Sterling's lips thinned. "Nate, I ..."

"That's not negotiable, Sterling," Nate said tersely.

Sterling's eyes narrowed. "What? You think it's better for me not to know what's going on?"

There was no answer and his face tightened as the silence stretched on. "Right," he finally said in a near whisper, something very close to hurt reflected in his eyes. He stood, peeling off the gloves and dropping them on the table. Grabbing his backpack, he walked from the condo.

Parker stared at the speaker phone, her arms still wrapped around her legs. After a moment she rose and followed him. Unlike Sterling, she slammed the door shut.

"What was that?" Nate asked.

"Sterling's gone," Sophie said, still clutching the book. As if suddenly realizing what she was doing she dropped it on the table.

"Okay, good. Now Parker …"

"Parker's gone too. She followed Sterling." Sophie considered peeling off the gloves then decided not to, just in case she had to touch _that_ again.

"She what? Damn it. Get her back here …"

"No," Sophie said shortly.

"Sophie, we can't have Sterling pulling stunts like that …"

"He didn't have anything to do with it. If he had, he would have gone along with her and she wouldn't have forgotten a camera. Parker did it herself," she said decisively.

There was a long silence. "You sound certain of that," Nate said at last.

"I am certain of that." She paused, unsure of how she should explain what she suspected. "Parker is very confused right now. Conflicted may be a better word. The only person she can really talk to is someone she knows she can't trust and yet …" she shrugged helplessly. "She respects him. He's the only person who has ever managed to catch her."

"She can't trust him," Nate said sharply. "He'll find a way to use her …"

"No. Not in this. Nate … " Sophie groped for words. "Right now the two of them … they _need_ each other. Two people with the same nightmare. A part of them is afraid of the other, because of what they are … thief and thief-catcher. Another part is grateful for the company of someone who knows what they have been through. What they're going through. They're …" She was explaining this badly and fumbled to a halt, finally continuing with a sigh. "Sterling won't endanger her. Right now, whether he likes it or not, he's feeling protective of her …"

This bought a snort of disbelief from more than one of the men.

"He is," Sophie insisted. "That doesn't mean he won't do his best to catch her in the future but right now … right now he'll do his best to keep her out of this. Which in turn will serve to keep _him_ out of this. That is what you want, isn't it?"

She could almost hear Nate's scowl over the phone. "Fine. I don't like it but … Hardison, see if you can find a way to track both of them. I think we need to know what they're doing. Sophie, keep an eye on them."

Sophie rolled her eyes. "I'll try."

"Yeah, I'll give that a shot, Nate, but I don't think it'll work," Hardison said in a distracted voice. "Well, I can track the GPS on their phones but that only works if the phones are on. Maybe we can get tracking devices on Sterling but no way am I going to try and get some on Parker. Not after what she threatened to do to me the last time I did that."

"Just do your best. We're on our way to Blaine's place. Hardison, work on the stuff Parker bought in."

"Yeah, I got a few ideas about that," Hardison muttered, already losing himself in his computer.

"Okay. We'll call later, once we know more." The connection broke off.

Sophie stared at the speaker phone for a long moment before sighing. "I'll find Sterling and Parker. Hardison? Any ideas …"

"Uh, yeah. According to the GPS unit in Sterling's phone they're down in McRory's."

"Right." She rose, reaching for her purse. "Though it does occur to me that Sterling knows damn well that there is a traceable GPS unit in his phone. Which makes me wonder why he leaves it on." She closed the door after her, leaving Hardison staring blankly at the door.

ooOoo

The bar was just opening when Sterling came down and he turned abruptly into it, walking over to look at the list of drinks. Getting one sounded like a real good idea at the moment …

"That won't help," Parker said, almost in his ear.

He managed not to flinch. "It's not supposed to help. It's supposed to …" He cut off his words, his jaw tightening.

"Make you forget? Or just numb you?" Sterling didn't answer and she stuck her hands in her hip pockets. "Does that really work?"

Sterling took a deep breath, releasing it slowly. "No," he admitted, finally turning to face her. "I think Nate would have preferred you stayed up there." He jerked his head toward the 'there' in question.

Parker shrugged. "And yet he doesn't want me involved. What does he expect me to do? Sit in a corner and twiddle my thumbs?"

Sterling grinned at that image and she gave him a half-hearted scowl.

"I could go back to Montgomery's. Get photos of the stuff in the other safes." She suggested brightly.

"No," Sterling said firmly then sighed at the look she gave him. "Right now Nate suspects I'm encouraging you to do things … never mind that under different circumstances, he'd be _telling_ you to do the same things … never mind." He looked around; finally leading Parker over to the booth they had sat in the other day. "Hardison is doing his thing …"

"We could go back up and heckle him," Parker suggested.

Sterling grinned at that. "Don't tempt me. Nate and Eliot are doing whatever it is they're doing in LA and Sophie … Sophie appears to be coming over to keep an eye on us."

"Trust me. It's not my idea. Move over, Parker." Sophie tossed her purse next to the younger woman and sat down. Crossing her arms, she half-glowered at the man across from her. "Nate doesn't trust you."

Sterling arched an eyebrow at her. "I rather thought none of you trusted me."

Sophie frowned at him. "What are you two planning?"

Sterling looked as if he'd been slapped and Sophie realized too late how her words sounded.

"No! I didn't mean … I don't think you had anything to do with Parker raiding Montgomery's, Sterling. Not any more anyway. What I meant is what are you thinking about doing this afternoon?"

Sterling stared at her for a moment longer before shrugging. "I'd suggest going to a museum but she'd probably spend the entire time casing the place and I'd end up an accessory to something. Grinning at me like that does not help."

That only widened Parker's grin and he sighed.

"Hell, I don't know. Go to a garden? Another movie? Zoo?" he said flippantly.

Parker's face lit up. "Zoo! I've never been to the zoo."

"Never?" Sophie asked in surprise.

"Well, when I was real little. I don't really remember it."

Sterling looked at Sophie, finally shrugging. "All right. Zoo it is. Shall we?"

Sophie blinked, not at all sure she wanted to walk through a zoo with Sterling and Parker. Unable to think of anything else they could do, she finally gave in. "All right. Zoo it is."


	8. Chapter 7

Eliot slowed the car and pulled into the driveway, following its wandering path through the woods until they arrive at a neat little cottage near the lake.

"So what do we know about this guy?" he asked Nate, who had been looking over the information Hardison had sent to his phone.

"Five commendations, retired with honors. Widowed. His wife died seven years ago of cancer. Three daughters. Apparently lives alone." He looked up and around. "Nice place."

"Yeah. Real nice. How can he afford ..." Eliot's eyes narrowed in suspicion.

Nate grinned. "He inherited it from his parents. Been in the family for years."

"Oh."

"Come on." They left the car and walked toward the house. Before they reached it, Blaine had stepped out onto the porch and was watching them.

"Detective Blaine?" Nate asked.

"Retired." Blaine corrected, studying them with shrewd dark blue eyes. His hair, once brown, was now gray and his squint suggested he may need glasses but his back was still straight and he was in excellent shape for a man of his age. "Just mister now."

"Mr. Blaine. I'm Agent Baker." He offered his FBI badge to the man. "And this is Agent McCoy. We have some questions about a case of yours. The file on it seems rather ... sparse."

Blaine arched an eyebrow before gesturing them to chairs on the porch. "Which case would that be?"

Nate flipped open the file he had carried up with him. "Eddie Macintosh." He looked at the older man in time to see him grimace.

"I remember him. His murder was rather memorable." He gave Nate a sharp look. "That happened years ago. What's the FBI's interest in it now?"

"In his murder, very little interest. It's his activities before his murder." Nate took a copy of Sterling's sketch and a photo of Macintosh from the file, offering it to the other man. "That sketch is based on the description provided by a victim of sexual abuse. She was twelve at the time and brought across state lines."

Blaine grunted, taking both and comparing them. "Damn," he muttered. "Always wondered about that bastard."

"So the prostitutes he solicited were under-age?" Eliot asked.

"That I don't know. You'd have to ask vice. But while I was investigating his murder, things came up that were … hinky at best."

"What kind of things?" Nate asked.

Blaine frowned, looking over the lake broodingly. "Have you ever heard of Wainwright Industries?" he asked abruptly.

"What?" Nate blinked, startled.

"Yeah," Eliot said curtly. "Big in shipping. Fingers in a dozen pies, not all of them legal."

Blaine threw him an amused look. "That's them. Eddie's mother was the very spoiled product of that family and she, in turn, spoiled Eddie rotten. Every time Eddie got in trouble, mother dearest would have a bad case of the vapors and daddy would make the problems go away. Mainly by throwing money at it and if that didn't work, throwing money at others to make it go away." He leaned back in his chair, looked at them expectantly.

"So there were other incidents," Nate said slowly. "And the family money buried them."

"I was in Homicide, you understand." Blaine waved a hand vaguely toward the city. "I didn't hear much about Eddie's exploits. Not until he was dead and I did some digging. He'd never been arrested for anything involving under-age girls and we … me and my partner, he's dead now … were told by our captain not to bother with hearsay and rumors. Problem was," he frowned, rubbing his chin. "Even with Eddie dead or, hell, maybe because he was dead, none of the girls or their families wanted to make a fuss. They weren't willing to even talk about it so all I had were second-hand notes made by other cops."

Nate frowned at his file, finally pulling out another sketch. "How about this? Does this look familiar?" He offered it to Blaine.

The older man frowned and shook his head. "Nope. Course I never met Eddie before …" He paused, eyes narrowing. "Wait a minute." He leaned back in his chair, staring at the design thoughtfully. "Eddie's old man wore a ring. One big ass ring. Gold, I think. With what I thought was a really weird design. This might be it."

Eliot and Nate exchanged glances. "On his thumb?" Nate asked.

"What?" Blaine looked up, startled then thoughtful. "No. No, it was on his ring finger. Right hand, I think."

"You wouldn't happen to have any notes on the case?" Eliot asked. "There wasn't much in the file."

"Our captain didn't like us putting hearsay and speculation in the computers. Hell, he didn't even like the computers. I seriously doubt he even bothered to turn his on more than once a month. And yeah, I still have my notes. Come on."

Blaine rose but didn't lead them into the cottage. Instead he walked around it and back toward what had once been a carriage house.

"My wife hated having anything to do with work in the house." He explained as he dug a ring of keys from his pocket. "She insisted that when I was home … in the house … that I wasn't a cop so I turned this old building into an office. I keep everything out here." He opened the door and led the way into a small but pleasant room that at first seemed like nothing more than a home office.

Eliot looked around then chortled. Nate, who'd been watching Blaine, followed his eyes and grinned.

"Oh yeah." Blaine grinned as he realized their attention was on the big screen TV set against the wall near the door. "No football in the house. Since this was my space, I could do what I wanted with it." He unlocked one of the three file cabinets behind the desk. "She had the basement. When she passed away, my daughters came over and cleaned it out. I still have no idea what she had down there." He pulled out a file. "I was almost afraid to find out. Here we are."

Nate took the file and opened it, scanning the contents with a frown.

"And you may want to see this." Blaine offered him a second file. "This is information concerning Macintosh's suspected victims. Three of them, though there's probably more. However," he tapped the file. "that they really were victims is hearsay and rumor. We could not find any witnesses or evidence that anything ever happened. Which is why the file is separate."

Eliot took that one and scanned the contents quickly. "Could we, ahhh, get copies?"

"Sure." Taking back the files, Blaine walked over to a small copier nearby.

"Is there anyone we can talk to about this?"

"Well, out of the five cops that talked to me about these," he waved the second file. "Three of them are dead, one is retired to Australia, and the last is in a home suffering from the effects of a massive stroke. The captain may have known something … he was good friends with old man Macintosh … but he passed away three weeks ago."

"And old man Macintosh?" Eliot asked.

"After Eddie's mother died, he married a young woman who looked like she was getting ready to burst into puberty at any moment. Don't worry. She was twenty. She was just one of those women who habitually looked very young and virginal right up to the day she suddenly gains thirty years and forty pounds." He closed the file he'd been copying and reached for the other. "Last I heard, Macintosh moved to someplace in Europe. Beyond that, no idea."

Nate watched him as he finished scanning the file, frowning thoughtfully. "Did you ever hear anything about a pedophile ring?" he asked abruptly. "Maybe with old man Macintosh involved?"

Blaine's head had snapped up at the first question and his eyes narrowed. "No, I never did. Oh, there's always rumors springing up, especially with those child care abuse cases years ago. But nothing that panned out when investigated." Files returned to the cabinet, he turned to lean back against it, arms crossed. "Something tells me there is something more to it then just Eddie."

Nate hesitated. Something told him he could trust Blaine, that he was one of those true cops you could trust. He made an abrupt gesture, pulling out the sketch of the design and dropping it on the desk. "The girl I mentioned saw that design on a ring hanging from a chain on her attacker's neck and it happened in LA. Funny thing … not funny funny but funny peculiar … we had just interviewed a man who had been molested by someone over thirty years ago in London. By a man wearing a ring with that design."

Blaine's eyes narrowed. "Not Eddie."

"No, not Eddie. And from the sound of it not his father since he sounds like he's into little girls."

Blaine grunted, picking up the sketch. "Mind if I keep this? Maybe I can ask around. See what I can find."

Nate exchanged a glance with Eliot. "Sure. Here." He pulled out one of the cards Hardison had run off. "Give me a call if you find anything out."

"And be careful." Eliot added. "We're kind of thinking that maybe Eddie was killed by this group for maybe being …"

"An idiot." Blaine finished.

"Yeah."

Pausing to lock the cabinet and then the door as they left, Blaine walked them to their car.

"Good luck," he said, shaking each of their hands.

Once back on the road, Eliot growled. "Looks like we have a family connection."

"Maybe," Nate mussed then fell silent for a moment. "Doesn't it strike you that Eddie is a bit too reckless for such a secretive group?"

"Yeah, well. He was killed."

"Right." Leaning forward, Nate punched an address into the navigation system. "Head for that address." He pulled out his phone.

"Uh? What?"

"Someone I want to talk to." Nate hit a number and switched the phone to speaker. "Hey, Hardison," he said when the young man answered. "I have some names for you to check out and we need some addresses."

"Right. Just a sec. Okay." Hardison's voice came over the speaker.

"First name you already have. Edward Arthur Macintosh, aka Eddie." Nate scanned the file. "Then his father. Marcus Homer … Marcus Homer?" He exchanged a look with Eliot, who just shook his head. "Marcus Homer Macintosh. See if you can find anything on his wives. First wife deceased with the last name of Wainwright and second, name unknown. And any other family members. Then we have three girls. Well, women now." He listed the names of the three potential victims from the second file. "Oh and see if you can get any photos on old man Macintosh. Especially ones that include his hands."

Hardison's groan came over the speaker loud and clear. "Do not tell me …"

"Maybe." Nate hesitated. "Where's the others?"

"Well, tracking Sterling's phone tells me that they are at the zoo."

"The …"

"Zoo. Yeah."

"Okay. Thanks, Hardison." Nate flipped his phone closed.

"You know, Sterling's got to know we can track him that way," Eliot commented.

"Yeah. Right now, I guess, it's in his best interest to let us know where he is." Nate settled back in the seat, frowning at the scenery as it passed.

"So who is it we're going to see?" Eliot asked.

ooOoo

"No, you may not steal a cute little ... whatever it is!" Sterling hissed in Parker's ear, almost dragging her from the cage.

"But they're so cute! And they look lonely," Parker protested.

"Sophie! Help me!" He glared at the grinning woman. "Where do you think that little whatever it is is going to end up?"

Sophie's grin vanished. "Good point. Come on, Parker. Let's go look at the big cats." She took the young woman's free arm and steered her away from the lemur cage.

"This place is great!" Parker enthused.

"Yes. And we're not even halfway through it." Sterling stifled a groan. "Come on. Over here." He led the way over to a small hot dog stand. "What do you want?" he asked, resigning himself to being the one who paid.

Gathering up their order, they made their way to the nearby picnic tables. Parker perched on the table itself while Sterling and Sophie sat on the benches opposite each other. He pulled the zoo map from his pocket.

"I haven't been through a zoo in a couple years. I'll have to take Tommy again. If we go that way we'll end up at the Tiger Tales." He took a bite of hot dog, looking over the map thoughtfully. After a moment he became aware he was being stared at and looked over at Sophie. "What?"

Sophie shook her head and turned her attention back to her hot dog, eating it delicately. Sterling and Parked exchanged amused looks.

"Why don't we plan on making our way through the zoo and then head back and see what's going on?" He caught the look on Sophie's face and grimaced at her. "Look, I know Nate would prefer to keep both of us out of this but not knowing is much worse than knowing. Besides, sooner or later we are going to have to hear it."

"Yeah." Parker agreed, using a finger to scoop up chili from the overloaded chili dog and stuffing it into her mouth. Her eyes wandered around the area and Sterling got the uncomfortable feeling she was casing the place.

"I have to find the loo." He rose abruptly. "Please don't nick anything while I'm gone." He walked off, not the least bit reassured by the women's snickers.

Once he was out of sight, Sophie sighed. "Parker …"

"I don't trust him, you know," Parker said, not looking at her. "And I haven't told him anything. Well, nothing concerning the team."

"Oh I know, Parker. I know you won't tell him anything you shouldn't. It's just ... he isn't a friend, Parker. You have to remember that."

Parker frowned, poking at the bag of chips. "What does it mean to be a friend?" She asked abruptly.

"What?" Sophie paused, uncertain as to what to say. They had been working at socializing Parker more but now it looked like it was going to backfire on them.

"Never mind." Parker muttered, glancing over her shoulder. Sophie turned to see Sterling approaching. "Where's the bathroom?" she demanded as the man walked around the picnic table.

"Back the way I came," he said in amusement, jerking his chin in that direction. "Take a left down that way,"

"Right." She tossed him the bag of chips and vaulted off the table.

Startled, Sterling caught the chips then laughed. "This is just way too weird," he said to Sophie, who could only nod in agreement. Ripping open the bag, he offered her a chip. "When should Nate and Spencer be back?"

"I'm pretty sure they're hoping to come back tonight. If nothing comes up." She nibbled on a chip thoughtfully. "So what do you plan on doing?"

"Same thing I did last night, I suppose." He grinned at the look she gave him. "Amusing Parker. It's not like I can do much else." He sobered, looking off into the distance, obviously lost in thought.

Parker returned, giving Sterling a puzzled look as she sat next to Sophie.

"Ladies?" Sterling was now looking up with a frown. "I'm thinking maybe ..."

The women followed his intent gaze, watching as the formerly blue skies swiftly darkened.

"Oh no." Sophie scrambled to her feet.

They joined people in sprinting for the parking lot, hoping to outrun the coming deluge. The winds picked up rapidly and it grew even darker. At some point Sophie lost sight of Parker and when she stumbled, Sterling grabbed her hand to pull her up then kept holding it so they wouldn't become separated.

Somehow they made it to the car and Sophie used the auto-unlock remote. She scrambled into the car, half-aware of Sterling throwing himself into the passenger seat. They slammed the doors shut, gasping for breath.

"What took you two so long?" Parker said crossly from the back seat.

They both turned to look at her just as the skies opened up, rain coming down in blinding sheets of water. Later, Sophie wasn't sure which of them started laughing first but soon they were all caught up in a bad case of the giggles.

"Oh lord. I don't believe this." Sterling said once he was able to speak again. He looked out the window. "Well, we aren't going anywhere for a while."

Sophie grimaced at the literal wall of water coming down from the sky. "It shouldn't last long."

"I can't believe we actually found the car." Sterling let his head fall back against the headrest. "This is the right car, isn't it?" He sounded like he really didn't care.

"Yes it is." Sophie assured him. "Look, maybe we should …"

"Hey! Parker!"

Sophie jumped at Sterling's sudden yell and turned to see him twisted around, glaring at the giggling young woman.

"That better not be …" He said in a threatening tone.

Parker raised her hand, waving the stuffed animal she held at him. He relaxed.

"Damn! I thought maybe you actually managed to steal one of those lemurs." He paused, eying her narrow-eyed. "Where did you get that?"

She blinked at him then turned her attention to the toy, turning it to rub its nose against hers.

Sterling turned to look at Sophie. "Did she …"

"Don't ask. You'd be better off not knowing."

Sterling took a deep breath then sighed. "Right." He turned to stare out at the pouring rain.

ooOoo

"This the place?" Eliot slowed the car to a stop in front of the off-white two-story house.

"Yeah." Nate opened the door. "Wait here."

"Think she'll want to talk to you?"

Nate hesitated. "I don't know. We haven't spoken in quite a while."

"Didn't Sterling say she doesn't know anything about ... you know."

"I don't plan on telling her. I just ... well, I'm here. Might as well talk to her."

Nate walked up the familiar front walk, lined with a variety of brightly-colored flowers. The lawn was neatly mowed, the flowers well-tended but the porch showed wear and was in need of paint. He slowed then stopped, looking around as memory flitted through his mind.

_"What?" Sterling sounded defensive._

_Nate blinked. "What what?" He looked at the younger man, crouched down near a patch of turned dirt. He looked surprisingly feral, his eyes dark with suspicion and his expression closed. Nate remembered that he'd been talking about the flowers they were thinking of putting in._

_"It's just ..." He gestured around the property Sterling had been showing him. "For some reason it just doesn't ... well, it's not where I imagined you." He admitted._

_Sterling looked around at the property then back at him, his expression still remote and Nate wondered if the fragile partnership they had developed was about to be shattered. Half the time, working with Sterling, he felt as if he were trying to deal with some half-wild creature._

_"I always thought of you in the city. Not …" He looked around again. The two-story farmhouse was showing its age, the once white paint dingy with dirt and neglect. The round apple barn behind the house had once been painted a burnt orange-red but now the color was flaking, showing bare wood. Parts of the lawn were still overgrown, the rest of it had been cleared, apparently with the old-fashioned scythe Nate could see leaning against the side of the house. He blinked at the sight of it._

_Sterling followed his eyes, grinning suddenly. "Like her? Found her in the barn. Sharpened up nicely, don't you think?"_

_Before he could answer, the front door opened and Tess stepped out. "Supper's almost ready. Nate, you'll stay, won't you?"_

_"Well, uhm …"_

_"Don't argue with her, mate." Sterling rose, brushing off the knees of his jeans. "You won't win." He grinned, animosity gone and Nate wondered if it had actually been there in the first place._

Nate realized he had stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and starting walking again. The last time he was here it had been Tommy's birthday and he had come with Sam and Maggie. He quickly raised his hand and pushed the doorbell before he lost his nerve.

Within moments, the door opened. Tess didn't look surprised to see him and he realized she had seen him through the window before opening the door.

"Hello, Nate. Long time no see."

"Hi, Tess. I, uh, thought I'd swing by."

"And your friend?" She looked past him toward Eliot.

"Oh, just a ..."

"Jim and I still talk, Nate," Tess interrupted.

Realizing what she was saying, Nate fell silent for a moment. "He told you about ..."

"About your friends. The horses. The two Davids. The explosion. Yes, he did." She paused. "We talk about everything … except what we really need to talk about." Tess stepped back and he saw the towel in her hands. "Come on in. I've towels to fold." She left him to close the door behind him.

ooOoo

Eliot watched the door close with a grin. Served Nate right, since he insisted on coming out to see Sterling's wife. Leaning back, he crossed his arms and looked around.

He was surprised. Sterling always struck him as a city dweller, probably living in some fancy condo not some remodeled farm house. He could even see a round barn behind the house, though Nate had mentioned that Sterling's wife used it as a workshop. He looked around, realizing that there was no other house in sight. He knew there were a couple nearby but the trees blocked any view of them.

He shifted, catching sight of building material on one side of the house. Frowning, he walked to one side, peering intently. Sudden movement caught his eye and he automatically dropped into a fighter's stance, slipping easily and quickly into a friendly catch of the greyhound leaping at him.

"Hey there fella! Whoops. Girl." He rubbed the wiggling dog's head and looked at the boy who'd been running behind her. Eliot noticed with approval that he had stopped a few feet away, well out of arms reach.

"Sorry about that." The boy held up a leash, collar still attached. "She slipped her collar again."

"It's okay. What happened here?" He rubbed the dog's right shoulder, an easy thing to do since there was no leg. She seemed to like this and wiggled up against him, trying to lick his face.

"She used to be a show dog or something only she got hurt or something. Dad brought her home."

"You must be Tommy then." Not a hard assumption. The boy looked remarkably like his father though his eyes were blue and hair much lighter. "I'm Eliot. I'm here with Nate Ford."

"Uncle Nate?" Tommy turned to look at the house. "Is my dad here?" he said hopefully.

"No. Sorry."

The boy's face fell.

"He's in Boston. Working a case," Eliot said hastily. "He should be home soon."

"He doesn't live here anymore," Tommy muttered, kneeling to slip the collar back on the dog.

Eliot looked at the house. "But he comes home, doesn't he?"

"Yeah. Sure. All the time." Tommy stood, fiddling with the leash. "He just doesn't stay."

"And you don't know why." Eliot pulled himself onto the hood of the car.

Tommy hesitated then walked over to climb up next to him, the dog collapsing happily at their feet. "No. Dad says he'll explain someday and I don't think Mom really knows."

"She might not."

"Yeah. Maybe." Tommy swung his legs. "He promised he'd be home soon. In time for my birthday."

"If he said he would be, he will be," Eliot said. He caught the look on the boy's face, a fleeting look of doubt. His lips thinned. "Has he ever broken a promise to you?"

Tommy shook his head. "No."

"Never?"

Tommy's face scrunched as he thought. "No, never."

"There you are. If he says he's going to be here then he will be." He studied Tommy for a moment. "You got reason to think differently?"

Tommy shrugged, one of those young boy's fake unconcerned gesture. "Pete says that's what happens. Dads make promises but sooner or later other things get in the way and they just start to forget."

"Pete?"

"My cousin. His mom and dad got separated and his dad didn't come around very often and then they got divorced and he don't come around at all now." Tommy looked down. "Pete says Dad's probably got a girlfriend like his dad does."

Eliot hesitated, thinking over what he should say. "What do you think?"

Tommy frowned before shaking his head. "The way he looks at Mom. Like he always has. Like he loves her lots but ... now it's like he's scared of her at the same time."

Eliot nodded slowly, choosing his words carefully. "Look, Tommy. Me and your dad, we don't really get along. For various reasons that aren't really important right now. But I can tell he misses both of you a lot."

"So why isn't he living at home no more?"

"Any more," Eliot corrected then grinned at the look Tommy gave him. "Sorry. Habit. Got a nephew about your age. As for why your dad isn't living at home ..." Eliot thought back to his own childhood and a time when his parents had split for a time. "Sometimes ... sometimes grown-ups have problems that they need to work out and sometimes they feel they need to go away to do that. And they think they need to do it alone."

"But mom wants to help. Me too."

"Yeah, well. Grown-ups can be real stubborn sometimes. And stupid sometimes. Or stupidly stubborn. That's what my mom used to say about my dad."

"Your dad left?"

"Yep. For about four years." He was stretching it a bit but he figured it was for a good cause. "But he came around whenever he could. Took us camping. Riding. Doing all kinds of things. Kept every promise he made. Took him a while to work the problem out. Never did find out what it was." Another lie but again for a good cause. "Now see, your dad is very stubborn. And he wants to handle it himself."

Tommy was silent for a long moment. "Can he?"

Eliot thought about it. "He's smart enough. And stubborn enough. And he's got you and your mom to do it for."

"So just wait?"

"Yeah. Unfortunately that's all you can do." Eliot swung his legs in imitation of Tommy. "So what's going on back there?" He nodded toward the construction.

Tommy grinned suddenly. "We're putting a fish pond in the back. It's sort of a combination Mother's Day/birthday present for mom. With a little Christmas thrown in. Depending on how long it takes to put in."

"Thinking you might still be putting it in come Christmas?"

"Maybe. It's going kind of slow. But it's fun." His grin widened. "And messy. Last time Mom made us stand outside while she hosed us off. We were covered in mud!"

Eliot grinned, imagining the usually humorless Sterling he knew covered with mud and being hosed off by the woman he had seen earlier. A woman who, despite her best efforts, had to be at least a little pissed at him.

"Dad says mom enjoyed hosing him off way too much. See that?" Tommy said suddenly, pointing toward the side of the house where Eliot could see part of a patio. "Dad built that years ago. There's a gazebo further back. You can't see it from here. I was pretty little but I remember him putting down the stones."

Eliot looked around thoughtfully. "Does a lot of work around the place, does he?"

"Yeah. Guess it was a bit of a wreck with mom and dad bought it."

"Wouldn't know it now," Eliot mussed.

"Dad keeps talking about maybe putting in a swimming pool but we'd have to clear trees to do it and him and mom really don't want to do that."

"Don't blame them. It's beautiful here." He glanced toward the barn. "Ever talk about maybe getting a horse?"

"Sometimes. Mom says maybe in a year or two. Mom uses the barn for her work but dad said maybe we could build a small stable later."

"With the weather here you wouldn't need anything too big. The horses would probably prefer to stay outside anyway." He looked down at the dog. "So what's her name anyway?"


	9. Chapter 8

_So sorry for the long delay. Things kept coming up but now, in honor of Sterling's return, here is the next part. Another part will be posted within the week.  
_

* * *

Nate stepped into the foyer, closing the door behind him. Before he could follow Tess through the living room and into the kitchen, something unexpected made him stop dead.

"Tess," he said.

"Yes?" She paused in the doorway to the kitchen.

"There is a goat in the fireplace." He watched as the little creature scrambled from the fireplace and toddled over to him.

"Oh, that's Hopper. She likes it there. Feels protected, I think." She vanished into the kitchen.

"Okay. Right. Hi." The little goat bleated at him and nibbled the edge of his coat. "That isn't edible," Nate said as he pulled the material away.

"To a goat anything is edible," Tess called out and he could hear the laughter in her voice.

"A goat." He looked down at the admittedly adorable animal. "You know, I'm suddenly realizing who Parker has always reminded me of and I'm not sure that's a good thing," he said very softly to the goat, who bleated at him happily, wagging its tail. The goat, he noticed, was wearing leather booties, obviously to keep the hooves from marring the hard wood floors throughout the house.

Looking around, he smiled slightly. He'd always envied Sterling his house, a two-story farmhouse that had been a fixer-upper when the couple had bought it years ago. They had spent almost every weekend working on it and more than once Sterling had recruited him and Maggie to help out. They had spent days removing carpeting and wallpaper to restore the original floors and paneled walls.

Shaking himself free of memories, Nate walked into the kitchen, the little goat gleefully following. In two hops, Hopper was on the kitchen table, tumbling over a stack of folded towels. The cat, lounging on another stack of towels, hissed and slapped at her.

"Ginger! Calm down. Come on, Hopper." Tess scooped up the goat and walked over to set her into the utility room, closing the door on her. "What do you want, Nate?"

"What makes you think I want something?"

"I can't think of any other reason for you to be here. The last time I saw you, you almost broke Jim's jaw."

Nate winced, remembering that day well. It had been the last time he'd seen Sterling until they'd met again in Kentucky.

Tess took up a towel, snapping it out and folding it briskly. "Do you know where Jim is?"

"Ah, yeah. He's in Boston."

"Well. He must be desperate."

Nate was beginning to wish he hadn't insisted on stopping here. "He ..." He stopped dead, uncertain as to what to say.

"Don't. Jim will explain when he's ready. He's told me some things already. About the abuse when he was a kid. That was easy to figure out really." She paused, her eyes briefly far away. "I always knew there was more. And I knew that eventually he'd tell me but then things started to change. He started to work long hours and then he began to not come home for the weekends." She sighed. "He was so busy covering your cases that he had no time for us."

"What?" Nate said sharply.

Tess turned to look at him in surprise. "He was covering your cases, the ones that went out of the country. So you could stay close to home and to Sammy." She frowned at his obvious confusion. "He was your second-in-command, so to speak. Who else would have done it? You certainly weren't." She flushed slightly, embarrassed by the bitterness of her words. "Not that anyone expected you to, of course …"

"Wait a minute," Nate said, sharper then he intended. He rocked back on his heels, his thoughts spinning. When he finally spoke, his words were slow. "Sterling was out of town while Sammy was sick?"

Tess gave him a puzzled look. "Jim was out of the county for most of the time Sammy was sick. Didn't you ever wonder why he never visited?"

"I thought … I mean I heard …" He paused, some thoughts coming together and others spinning away as he re-evaluated the events of that fateful year.

'You heard what?" Tess asked sharply.

Nate shook his head slowly. Who had told him what? No one, he realized. Blackpoole had _hinted_ but had never said anything out right. He had just … _hinted_. "I put a claim in for an experimental procedure that might have helped Sammy," he said slowly. "It was denied."

Tess gave him a puzzled look then, after a moment's thought, her expression cleared, her eyes widening with horror. "You thought Jim was responsible for …"

"No! No. Not … exactly." Nate swallowed hard. "I thought … I was led to believe he was the investigator responsible for the report …" His voice trailed off as Tess' expression went from horrified to furious.

"For God's sake, Nate! You know damn well that claims made by employees are always investigated by other offices! Jim would never have been chosen to investigate any claim you made! Especially since, at the time, you were friends."

"I …" He gave up trying to speak. He had believed it and Sterling's continued absence hadn't helped. Then, when he had returned to work it was to find that the other man working his cases. "He was working my cases."

"He was trying to help, Nate! The only way he could." She paused, taking a deep breath. "In case you haven't noticed, Jim has a hard time … relating to most people. A by-product of his childhood and what happened then. But he tries and when he succeeds in making a friend he's … he's loyal beyond words. He worked himself to the bone, working your cases and his. Anything to keep Blackpoole and the company happy. Long hours and tons of travel. Didn't you ever wonder why it was Lyta who brought you any paperwork that needed to be reviewed and signed?"

Nate thought back. Sterling's very able assistant had been the one bringing paperwork to him, not Sterling. Of course, after Blackpoole's hints about the man, he had assumed that Sterling simply didn't want to face him. "He never tried to explain."

"And you never tried to ask," Tess said sharply then shook her head abruptly, the anger in her eyes fading. "If it makes you feel better, he was using the long hours as an excuse not to deal with his own problems." She turned away, reaching for a towel to pleat in her hands.

Nate hesitated. "The last few years, the way he's acted ..."

"Isn't the same as he would normally have acted. Any more then you were acting the way you once did. Jim got ... harder. More remote. Holding himself tightly in control. He started to have nightmares." She continued abruptly. "Even before he moved out he'd often sleep in his office or the guest room. Even out in the old place. After a while all he had was the anger and the fear. He was so busy bottling them up he didn't have time for anything else."

Nate rocked back on his heels. "He said he was afraid of hurting one of you."

Tess dropped the towel and walked over to look out the window. "There's a hole in our bedroom wall. Jim put it there three years ago. I don't even really know what he was angry about. I doubt he knew what he was angry about. That was the night he walked out. He hasn't spent the night in this house since."

"You haven't gotten it repaired?" Nate asked after a moment of silence.

"Jim will repair it. When he returns. That better be soon. The porch needs to be fixed. The steps. Other things. He does what he can when he visits but he prefers to spend much of the time with Tommy and me."

"Have you suggested counseling?"

"Of course. But in order to deal with a problem you have to acknowledge that it is there. Jim wasn't ready to ... then." She looked over her shoulder at him, her eyes shining bright with unshed tears. "I don't care why he did what he did. All I know is that Tommy needs his father and I want my husband. I don't want to know what he's doing or what you're doing for him. He'll tell me ... eventually. I'm willing to wait. Just ..." She managed a wan smile. "Just don't get him arrested. Whether you believe it or not, he is one of the good guys."

Nate was silent for a long moment, turning over what he had learned in his mind. "That's up to him. But maybe we can help clear the way. I'd ... better go. It was good to see you again, Tess."

"You too." She sounded sincere as she turned from the window and walked him to the door.

Swinging it open, they walked through, pausing at the sight of Eliot sitting on the hood of the car, talking to the boy sitting next to him. A greyhound was lying on the ground at their feet, panting in the heat. "Tommy! Tripod looks like she could use some water!"

"'Kay, mom!" He slid off the car hood, turning to speak briefly with Eliot.

I didn't know you had a dog," Nate said slowly.

"Jim brought her home shortly before he moved out. Not exactly a fair trade."

"Yeah." Nate said absently, watching as the dog struggled to her feet. Only three feet. The right leg was gone up to the shoulder. That didn't stop her from running up to them, her tail wagging happily.

"Tripod! Down," Tommy said firmly then continued politely. "Hello, Uncle Nate."

"Tommy." He watched the boy lead the dog into the house. "Thanks for your time, Tess. Maybe we'll talk again soon."

"I'd like that." She walked with him down the sidewalk and to the car. "Oh, and Nate. Jim doesn't know about Hopper yet. Could you maybe …?"

"Not mention her? Right. Don't mention the goat. Sure." He paused thoughtfully. "You know, funny thing is that's probably not the oddest request I've gotten in the past few months."

Tess smiled at that then half-turned to keep the cat from sneaking out the door. "Bye, Nate." Picking up the cat, she slipped back into the house, closing the door after her.

Nate walked back down to the car. Eliot was already in the driver's seat and he slid into the passenger seat, slamming the door closed too hard.

"You look like you've gotten news you did not want to hear." Eliot started the car.

"More like news I never expected to hear." He looked back at the house but he wasn't seeing the empty yard. Instead he could see Tess and Maggie, one hugely pregnant, the other just a few months along, sitting in the newly installed swinging bench, watching and laughing while he and Sterling tossed a football back and forth. He could almost hear Sterling's familiar voice deriding American football and his own snappish remarks in return. Shaking himself clear of the memories, he sighed but before he could speak the phone rang. He dug it out and flipped it open. "Hardison? Just a sec." He dug out his notebook and found a pen. "Okay. Right. Got it. We'll see if we can check it out." He glanced at his watch. "Listen, see if you can get us tickets on the redeye tonight. All right. Thanks."

Flipping the phone closed, Nate put it away. "One of the girls is dead. Drug overdose. One has changed her name and moved to Florida. The last is still here in LA." He leaned forward to punch the address into the navigation system. "Let's see if she'll talk to us."

"Okay." Eliot started the car, glancing back at the boy and dog that were re-emerging from the house before pulling away.

XoXoXoX

Hardison looked up as the door opened, blinking as the threesome walked in, each carrying a bag.

"Ahhhhh ..."

"Stopped for supplies," Sophie explained. "As well as Chinese for supper."

Hardison flicked a look at what he was working on. "Okay, great."

Sterling set the bag he was carrying down, eyeing Hardison thoughtfully. "You found something," he said quietly.

"What?" Parker turned to look at Hardison. "What did you find?"

"Hey." Hardison tried a casual grin. "No. Well, maybe a little something. Come on, guys. You know I can't tell you any of this. Not without Nate's say-so."

"Then get it." Sterling's lips thinned at the younger man's hesitation. "This is just ... ridiculous. What's Nate going to do? Sanitize it before you tell any of it to us? You don't think we can't guess what you aren't telling us?"

"Or imagine worse than you're telling us," Parker added. "A watered down version will be a lot worse than the outright truth."

Hardison threw up his hands. "Look, I don't have much yet. I'm getting a lot of information coming in and I need to organize it, okay?"

Sterling nibbled on an egg roll he'd pulled from one of the bags. "Fine. Is there anything I can do to help?"

Hardison started to speak then paused, reaching up to adjust the headset he wore and raising a hand to signal for quiet. "Professor Nicholson speaking," he said in a deep dignified tone. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Parker snicker and threw her a scowl before concentrating on the call. "Yes? Yes, that's exactly what I'm looking for." He switched programs and starting typing notes. "Uh-huh. Okay. Can you scan those in and get them to me … you already are. Wonderful. Where else?" He grimaced. "Okay. Do you happen to know anyone willing to do similar research there, in those locations? You do? Good. And you'll let them know what we need? Okay. Pay will be the same … maybe with bonuses tossed in for quick and thorough jobs. Okay? Thank you."

He flipped off the headset and stared at his computer thoughtfully. "Okay." He glanced up, surprised to realize that Sterling was sitting at the counter. He'd have thought the man would have been trying to read over his shoulder. "I'm following a train of thought which is leading me into a quagmire. A lot of the stuff I need isn't even online so I've got researchers all over the … well, world digging stuff up. I'm not ready to go into any of that yet 'cause I still have information coming in. But," he grabbed a handful of CDs. "You want something to do, Sterling? These are copies of the CDs that were in the bag. The originals are put away. Here." He offered them to the other man. "Look these over. See what you can see."

"Right." Taking a large bottle of mineral water from one of the bags, Sterling grabbed the CDs and his pack, settling in the chair across from Hardison. The two men were soon engrossed in what they were doing. So engrossed, in fact, that Hardison almost jumped out of his skin when Sterling yelled.

"Damn it, Parker! Keep that thing away from me!"

"What?" Hardison looked up to see Sterling scowling at Parker, who was pouting as she patted the stuffed animal she held.

"Parker got a toy lemur at the zoo and she's using it to torment Sterling," Sophie explained from the kitchen. "Which seems to work disturbingly well, now that I think of it."

Sterling scowled at her. "She just startled me. That's all."

"He likes the beard." Parker smirked at Sterling, wiggling the toy at him.

Sterling grumbled something about shaving then turned his attention back to his computer.

"But … a lemur?"

"They wouldn't let me steal a real one," Parker explained matter-of-factly as she settled on the couch, eyeing Sterling and holding the lemur ready.

"Ahhhh, right. Okay."

"Scary, isn't it." Sterling grinned at him. "That that actually makes sense."

"Yeah," Hardison muttered as he turned his attention back to his computer, only slightly disturbed by Sterling's occasional swearing and Parker's giggles.

XoXoXoX

"So what's up?" Eliot asked as they reentered the city.

"What?" Nate looked at him with an expression that suggested he'd been torn from private thoughts.

"You've been quiet ever since we left the Sterlings'. And it's not a good quiet. More like I want a big bottle of something quiet."

Nate grimaced. "Not quite." After a moment he sighed. "That dog. Used to be a show dog with one of those really long names and a pedigree to die for. You know what I mean. Well, she had cancer in the bone of a leg. Only way to save her was to remove the leg, which meant she could no longer show and couldn't be used for breeding. Owner put in a claim; Sterling and I were working it. One day I come in, the dog isn't there. Sterling tells me the dog is gone. The owner, who by the way was a real bastard, had been planning to have the dog put down and I assumed …"

"That the dog had been destroyed."

"Yeah."

"And that Sterling had allowed it."

"Yeah."

"When in reality he took the dog home for his son." Eliot frowned thoughtfully. "He must have worked out a deal with the vet."

"Probably. I can't imagine the owner just letting the dog go. I mean, he was all about purity of bloodlines and how he couldn't allow anyone to get their hands on one of his dogs even if she was fixed and Sterling was right there agreeing with him."

"And all the while he was working out a way to keep the dog alive."

"Yeah, I guess so." He paused, shaking his head. "I blew up at him about it. Him and the owner both. Sterling dragged me out of there, told me to meet him after work at our usual place. Up on the rooftop of the IYS building. I didn't go. Never went again."

"Never really talked to him again," Eliot guessed.

Nate scowled at him, a scowl that faded under the truth of the other man's words. "No," he finally admitted. "I was so mad at the thought of destroying a perfectly healthy dog … well, she would be perfectly healthy once the leg was removed … that I didn't want to deal with him."

"Sammy was just getting sick then?"

There was a long silence before Nate sighed. "Yeah. I guess I reacted stronger because of it." He frowned thoughtfully. "I remember the vet wasn't happy about destroying the dog. I wonder …"

"What?" Eliot finally demanded.

"The owner was the kind of man who would have insisted on being there when the dog was put down. The vet must have given her something to make it look like he'd done his job then probably whisked her away to a clinic. Wait a sec." Digging out his phone, he hit speed-dial and waited. "Maggie? Great. Let me put you on speaker."

"Nate? Where are you?" His ex-wife's voice came clearly over the speaker.

"In LA, just for awhile. Checking out some things. Eliot's with me."

"Hey, Maggie," Eliot yelled toward the phone.

"Hi! So what's up?"

"Uhm. I was just out at the Sterlings', talking with Tess. I was just wondering, that dog …"

"Tripod? Isn't she a hoot? You know, Tess still holds that name against Jim."

"I don't blame her. You know her story?"

"Well," Maggie sounded puzzled but willing to talk. "Tess said she was a former show dog. Pedigree a mile long and everything. Apparently Jim … guys, to the right. No, your other right … Sorry, Nate. Rearranging things here. Jim told Tess that the dog was a pure-bred but because she was supposed to be destroyed, they couldn't say anything about it and if the former owner found out she was still alive, they could be in a great deal of trouble. The good thing is that the amputation got all the cancer and there's been no recurrence." There was a brief pause. "Now what's this about? Why were you out at the Sterlings'?"

Nate hemmed and hawed for a moment. "We're just …"

"Maggie?" Eliot said suddenly. "This may be a stupid question but did you and Tess ever talk about your husbands? You know, during that time you were staying out at their place?"

"What do you think?"

"Sterling wasn't there at the time, was he?"

"No. He was out of the county most of the time and staying in the city when he wasn't. Look, we spent a lot of time bitching about our husbands. Both of you were acting really out of character and … well … out of control."

"What did Tess tell you about Sterling?"

Maggie didn't answer right away and Nate leaned back, content to let Eliot do the talking, at least for now.

"Look, Maggie," Eliot paused to concentrate on passing a slower car then continued. "Sterling contacted us about something that happened to him when he was a kid. The situation has … well … become bigger then even he thought. Any little bit will help."

Maggie sighed before finally continuing. "We talked mostly about what was happening currently, not much of the past. But Tess let slip once about the scars."

"Scars?" Nate straightened.

"Yeah, Nate. Scars. Didn't you ever wonder why, even on the hottest day, even when swimming, Jim never took his shirt off?"

"Well, ahhhh." He fell silent for a moment. "No, I guess I didn't."

"She says you really can't see them unless you know what you're looking for but she could certainly feel them. I guess Jim is just self-conscious about them even though he's had most of the scars covered by tattoos."

"Tattoos?" Eliot asked.

"Yeah," Nate replied. "Dragons. I remember seeing those whenever he wore short sleeves."

"Yeah. You know the story?" Not waiting for a reply, Maggie continued. "All I know is that Jim didn't talk about how he got the scars much but when he started to pull away from his family … well …"

"He was afraid he was taking after his father," Nate said slowly, remember the conversation on the rooftop so long ago.

"Apparently. At least that's what Tess thought and he wasn't willing to talk about it. Tess figured he'd hit some kind of stressor …"

Eliot and Nate looked at each other, the former mouthing the name 'Carlson'. Nate nodded in agreement.

"… on the job and with everything going on he didn't have time to deal with it. Unfortunately things never really slowed down enough for him to deal with it. Guess he found it easier and safer to … well, run away."

Nate winced, suspecting that she wasn't just talking about Sterling.

"Are you going to be in town for awhile?" Maggie asked.

"No, I don't think so. We have to get back and hopefully finish this."

"Good luck with that. Hey! Guys!" There was a sudden crash. "Damn! Nate, I have to deal with this. Call me later, okay?"

"Will do." Nate started then realized Maggie had already hung up. Flipping his phone closed, he put it away.

They finished the trip in silence.

XoXoXoX

The woman who opened the door was blonde, petite and looking so much like Parker that Nate was actually struck speechless for a moment. Sarah Nelson didn't notice or maybe she forgot it once they had introduced themselves with their FBI identities.

"What does the FBI want with me?" she asked as she lead them into the living room, pausing only to make sure the two little girls playing in the back yard were occupied before settling in a chair.

"This has to do with what happened when you were ten ..."

Sarah's brittle smile vanished. "Nothing happened when I was ten."

"No report was made but what happened was noted by a police detective. The same detective who attempted to investigate the other times Macintosh assaulted young girls and got away with it because old man Macintosh paid them off," Eliot said curtly.

"What other ..." She looked horrified. "There were no other children! I mean ..."

"During his lifetime, Eddie Macintosh assaulted a number of young girls," Nate cut in. "All around the age of ten or eleven, all blonde and petite." He paused, eying the woman thoughtfully. "You did not seriously believe you were his only victim?"

"We were told ..." she paused, realizing what she had just said. After a moment, she continued. "It was a mistake ... he was drunk ..."

"Was he drunk?" Nate asked bluntly.

"I don't know! I just thought ..." She waved her hand helplessly. "No. I guess we hoped he was."

"Did you ever talk to the police?" Eliot asked.

"No. I heard my parents talking to someone but didn't really ..." Her voice faded as she looked out the sliding doors and at her daughters.

"Your parents?" Nate asked.

"Both dead. They never spoke of it. All I know is that we didn't have insurance but all my medical bills were paid and my therapy and when they passed away, I received a very nice sum of money." She paused, swallowing. "How ... how many girls ..."

"Three more that we know of." Eliot was blunt. "Probably several more. Not that there was much a ten-year-old could have done about it."

Sarah shot him a look then relaxed, as if realizing that it wasn't she he was angry at but her parents and Macintosh.

"But he is dead. So why do you care?"

"Him being dead doesn't close the case." Nate pulled out the sketch of the design and offered it to her. "Have you seen this before?"

Her lips thinned and handed it back with a jerk. "He had a ring on a chain around his neck." Her voice was wooden. "That was it."

Nate took the sketch back, exchanging a glance with Eliot. To make it look real he should ask more questions and get more details but he didn't want to put her through that nor did he really want to hear it.

"We're just doing the preliminary work right now," he said abruptly. "We might have more questions later." He rose, Eliot following suit. "Thank you for your time."

XoXoXoX

Sterling sat in a chair, the light turned low, flipping through the material he had transferred from the CDs. Every now and then he would look at the couch, where Parker was fast asleep then at the clock. It was almost midnight and he was exhausted. With a sigh he saved everything and closed down the computer, reaching up to rub at his eyes. Nate and Spencer should be back in an hour or so and for a moment he contemplated going over to Nate's to wait for them.

But that would leave Parker alone and God knows what she'd do if she woke up and found him gone. Besides, he was the last thing Nate wanted to see after a long trip. Setting the laptop on the table, he rose and made his way into the bathroom. Morning was soon enough to hear what Nate had to say.


	10. Chapter 9

_This chapter has one of my favorite phrases in it. :) Can you guess what it is? I am continuing to write this story but I'm also starting school so I can't tell when the next part will be posted. Soon, I hope. _

* * *

It was too early in the morning and Nate really needed some coffee.

They had gotten in about midnight and he didn't get home until almost one. He'd barely had the strength to walk up to his bedroom and collapse into bed.

He walked into the kitchen, pausing in surprise when he realized coffee was already made. Then he wondered why he was surprised. The others were always in and out, making coffee and using his things.

"Morning, Nate." Sterling's voice came from behind him and he turned to see the man sitting in a chair near the screens, sipping from a mug.

"Okay, this is just too much! I have enough people coming in and out of this place! I do not need you doing it as well!"

"Calm down." Sterling nodded toward a bag on the counter. "I bought breakfast."

Nate scowled at him, finally easing open the bag. "Where did you get ... never mind." Grabbing the bag and a mug of coffee, he walked over to sit on the couch, setting both on the table. "Where's Parker?" he asked then paused with a frown, wondering when asking Sterling where Parker was had become something normal.

Sterling didn't seem to notice. "She was gone when I woke up." He fell into a silence, his expression blank as he stared across the room.

Nate lowered the mug he was about to take a drink from, studying the other man thoughtfully. "Jim … he started then stopped abruptly.

Sterling turned his head to look at him, visibly surprised. "I'm trying to remember," he said finally. "the last time you called me Jim."

Nate felt a flush creep into his face. "I went to talk with Tess while we were in LA." His voice faltered at the look that crossed the other man's face, a mixture of longing and regret. Clearing his throat, he continued. "She … explained a few things. I was led to believe that you had been involved in the investigation of the claim I put in and …" His voice faltered as Sterling's expression changed. He narrowed his eyes, speaking in hard tones. "You knew what I thought and you didn't say anything."

"When, Nate? Our paths rarely crossed. I was running around doing both our jobs. You were at hospital or somewhere. And when we did talk you were so angry for some reason. I didn't understand. Not then. After Sammy died, you were even angrier. Hell, Nate, I didn't even know about that experimental procedure until months later!" His expression softened. "Then I realized what Blackpoole had done." His eyes met Nate's. "It took me even longer to realize that you thought I'd been involved in the decision he'd made."

"And you said nothing."

"A part of me couldn't believe you would think that. I mean you know damn well they don't allow co-workers to investigate each others' claims. Blackpoole brought in someone from another office. I think the Phoenix office. And the file was sealed. I found out by happenstance. A fluke when that report came up while I was researching another case."

Nate stared at him, his thoughts churning. "Why didn't you tell me? You could have …"

"Not after you hit me I couldn't," Sterling said bluntly. "I don't take to being hit very well. Calling me a self-serving utter bastard didn't help." He flung the words back at the other man like a weapon.

Nate flinched at that but didn't look away. Instead, he took refuge in anger. "But you kept working for Blackpoole! Even after you found out."

"No, Nate," Sterling said gently. "I kept working for IYS. Blackpoole was a blight on how the company worked. Me leaving wouldn't have helped the company."

Nate leaned back, studying the other thoughtfully, thinking over what he had learned over the last couple of days. Some things, previously obscured by anger and resentment, now became clearer. "I was a roadblock in Blackpoole's way," he said slowly. "He thought you would be more receptive to the way he worked. The way he wanted the company to work. Hell, half the time you came across as a thug. So he took advantage of my distraction and yours to play us off against each other. Trying to get one or the other of us to break. Or better yet, get us to break each other."

"He succeeded too, didn't he?" Sterling rubbed at his face.

"He did," Nate said quietly. "He broke both of us, each in a different way."

Sterling looked at him in surprise.

"He took advantage of your troubles, your distraction to make you into what he wanted. I bet anything that he fed your view of me and ..." He paused. "He did the same to me. He never said anything straight out but he hinted. About you, about what you were doing and why. Lots of sympathy ... right up to the moment he stabbed me in the back."

"You know I didn't have anything to do with that, Nate. I would have helped, if I could. If I'd known."

Nate stared down into his mug. "When did you begin to suspect? That Blackpoole was manipulating you. Using you."

Sterling shook his head. "Not for awhile," he admitted. "Lyta pointed it out."

"Smart lady." The voice came from behind him but Sterling didn't seem to realize it at first.

"Very smart. And …" He stopped, twisting his head around to stare at Eliot. "How long have you been there?"

"Long enough." He reached over to snatch up the bag, scowling at the contents. "This ain't breakfast. I'll make some eggs." He stalked toward the kitchen.

Sterling stared after him for a moment. "I see what you mean, about people coming in and out of the place."

"Can't seem to keep them out." He looked pointedly at Sterling, who only smirked at him.

"How do you want your eggs?" Eliot called from the kitchen.

"Already have my breakfast." Nate waved a danish at him.

Eliot glared at him. "Sterling?"

"What?" Sterling looked startled at the realization that the young man was speaking to him. "Ahhhh … eggs up?" He said tentatively.

"Bacon okay?"

"Yeah, sure."

"What have you told Tommy about your childhood?" Eliot asked as he pulled pans from the rack. "Before you ran away."

Sterling looked him sharply. "Nothing. It's not something I can tell a child."

"How old were you when it was happening?" Frowning, Eliot searched briefly among the pans before pulling out a skillet and scowling at it.

"That doesn't matter! He doesn't need to hear about …" Sterling broke off his words, looking down into his mug.

"He may already know something about it. Kids hear a lot more then parents give them credit for. And you need to explain to him that what's going on between you and his mother isn't his fault."

"What? He knows that! I've _told_ him …"

Eliot ran over his words, his voice firm. "Just like you knew, as a kid, that what was happening to you wasn't your fault?"

Sterling stumbled to a halt and the blood seemed to drain from his face. Nate, in the act of taking a drink, paused, thinking back - was it only two days ago? - to Sterling whirling on him, telling him that he had done nothing wrong. With stunning clarity, Nate realized that more than thirty years after the fact, Sterling was still trying to convince himself that he hadn't done anything wrong.

"Have you ever told him about your parents? Your real ones?" Eliot asked bluntly.

"No, never," Sterling said quietly. "Hell, I don't even know if they're still alive. When the Sterlings got the go-ahead to adopt me, I figured they were dead. I haven't really thought of them since."

"But he's asked."

"Yeah, sure. Of course he's asked."

"And you just avoided it?"

Sterling hesitated. "Yeah."

Nate leaned back into the couch, watching the interplay between the two men. Despite what had happened during the two Davids job, Eliot was obviously willing to help Sterling. Or rather, Nate realized, help Tommy, even if that meant helping a man he loathed.

"Kids these days know more about things then most parents suspect." Eliot slid the eggs onto a plate. "But they rarely interpret what they hear right. What could Tommy have heard and how might he have interpreted it?"

Sterling didn't say anything for a long moment. "What did he tell you?" he asked at last.

"Not much. His cousin, Pete, is apparently saying some things that disturb him."

"Oh, lord." Sterling groaned, pressing the heels of his hands against his temples. "Poor Pete. His father's a complete asshole." He paused then sighed. "Damn. Did … did Tommy say anything about thinking we were going to get a divorce?"

"No. But Pete is of the opinion you probably have a girlfriend. Like his dad does."

Sterling hissed between his teeth and let his hands drop. "That would never happen," he said with utter conviction. "I've told him time and again that we are not getting a divorce. That I just need to work some things out."

"Three years is an awful long time to be working things out," Eliot pointed out. "Here. Food. Eat at the counter."

Sterling rose, walking into the kitchen to refill his mug before sitting at the counter. He poked at the eggs with the fork. "Yeah, I suppose it is," he said quietly. "I suppose it's even longer in kid-years."

"A lifetime." Eliot grunted. "You want something, Parker?"

Sterling looked at him, startled then turned to see Parker perched on the spiral staircase, knees drawn up, elbows on knees, and chin on fists, a frown on her face. At Eliot's question, she looked up hopefully.

"Chocolate pancakes?"

"Come sit down. I'll heat some up." He opened the freezer to pull out a package.

Parker hopped to her feet and scurried over to climb onto the stool next to Sterling.

"Leave my bacon alone!" Sterling snapped. "Do you ever eat off your own plate?"

Nate didn't hear Parker's reply, too caught up in a sudden realization that somehow, over the last couple days, Sterling had managed to become that distant cousin, the one you never talk about and didn't particularly like, to their dysfunctional family and he wasn't sure he liked that idea at all.

XoXoXoX

Nate, now dressed and carrying his third cup of coffee, paced in front of the others. Much to his dismay, Sterling and Parker had refused to leave and the others seemed inclined to let them stay. He'd finally given in only after Eliot had pointed out that leaving them out of the briefing would turn them loose on the city with none of them able to keep an eye on them.

"Okay, first off we found the man we believe was your attacker, Parker."

"Oh?" The young woman straightened, her expression fierce.

"His name was Eddie Macintosh."

"Was?"

"Yeah. He's dead."

"Dead?" Parker's voice was remote.

"Uh, yeah." Nate frowned, thinking that Parker would be happier about it. "He was killed about eleven years ago."

"Oh," Parker said in a small voice, slumping down onto herself.

Sterling abruptly leaned over the arm of his chair, grabbing for something. Nate was surprised to realize it was Parker's backpack. Ignoring the others, he jerked it open.

Nate tensed, waiting for the explosion but none came, even though Parker was watching Sterling with hooded eyes. Sterling didn't bother to rummage around; what he wanted was on the very top. Plucking out a stuffed toy, he offered it to Parker.

She gave him a surprisingly tremulous smile and took the lemur, hugging it to herself. Sterling closed the pack and shoved it back to where it had been. Leaning back in his chair, he met Nate's eyes defiantly, daring him to make something of what he'd just seen.

"That's not all you found, is it?" he asked curtly.

"No, it's not." Nate outlined everything they had discovered, omitting only their visit to Sterling's family. "Hardison, what have you discovered?"

"Quite a bit, surprisingly." The younger man paused, eyes scanning his computer. "Look, I got some more stuff coming in I need to go over before I talk. Sterling, why don't you go over what you found on those CDs?"

"Sure." Sterling dragged over his backpack.

"Uhm … what?" Nate gave Hardison a sharp look.

The young man, deep into what he was doing, didn't respond.

"Hardison gave me copies of the CDs from Montgomery's bag to go through." Sterling pulled some print outs from his pack and offered them to Nate then pulled out his computer. "I've looked through everything and from the look of it there are a number of people involved, all identified by their initials."

"EAM?" Parker asked abruptly.

Sterling hesitated before nodding "Yeah. And MHM."

"And CLC," Sophie said softly.

Sterling's face tightened and he nodded jerkily. When he next spoke his voice was wooden. "All total there are over two thousand different initials but only six hundred and thirteen seem to be active. The dates go back fifty years."

"Fifty?" Nate, Eliot, and Sophie said as one.

"Yeah. It looks like there are only about six hundred active members at one time. People leave, maybe die or are no longer able to participate and new people come in. Very low turnover. Now the first disc I looked at appeared to be a ledger recording some disgustingly large sums of money but what the money is for isn't clear."

"Membership into their dirty little club," Eliot growled.

"Yeah, I figured that but the amounts are not the same and in many cases there's more than one payment. I mean, here. SJJ paid two hundred thousand dollars eleven years ago then he paid another ten thousand ten years ago and then another ten thousand five years ago and another ten thousand this year. As well as one to five thousand dollar payments scattered all around."

Intent on explaining what he'd found, Sterling didn't notice Hardison's sudden start.

"Most of the people listed paid two hundred thousand and then paid out various sums at irregular intervals. Others paid five thousand or ten thousand once and then never paid again. At least not into this ledger."

Nate handed the printouts to Eliot and walked over to look over Sterling's shoulder as he flipped through screens.

"Then we have the second CD. The second ledger. This one shows regular sums from perhaps fifty people from the first ledger. These people have not had any money going into the first ledger for years and most of them only made one payment to that one."

"And you're thinking …" Nate asked slowly.

"Same thing you are. Blackmail. The people in the second ledger are people who got a taste of what this club offered, decided they didn't care for it and are now being blackmailed for daring to take a walk on the wild side."

Nate chewed on his lip for a moment. "Is that all?"

"No. There was one more CD. That one contains … well, I guess you'd call it a journal. Each initial in both ledgers has its own page and most of them have notes. Those notes are in code. I have no way of knowing how the code works. Not without the key. My guess is that it's in his head." Sterling frowned, tapping on the laptop. "Now for some speculation … Hardison, can we put these up on the big screen?"

"Uh?" Hardison blinked. "Oh, yeah. Sure. Just a sec." He did something with his computer then nodded at Sterling.

"Neat trick." Sterling grunted, manipulating documents until the ones he wanted were on the screen. "This is one of the journal pages."

"I see what you mean by code." Nate walked over to look at the first screen.

"Yep. That is EAM's page." He shot an apologetic look at Parker. "Since we have some info on him, he's the easiest to speculate about. You see his initials at the top left of the page. To the right we have two more initials, which are repeated in the main ledger. One of those initials is MHM, who I figure is his father. My thoughts here is that in order to join the group, two current members have to vouch for you."

"Makes sense," Eliot said. "One way to make sure the new members are trustworthy."

"Yeah." Sterling highlighted the body of the journal page, which was filled with a series of odd characters. "On the right you see notations about payments but on the left … my guess is that those are notes about EAM. I'm going to keep working on it. See if I can crack it."

Nate looked from one screen to the next thoughtfully. "And this?"

"That is the first ledger. Initials, amount paid, date paid, a couple other columns. The ones that are grayed out are apparently no longer active."

Hardison leaned back in his chair, running his hands through his hair and frowning at his computer. After a moment he looked up at the screens. "Okay, can you sort those … the active ledger … by dates paid? Most recent first?"

Sterling obeyed and the contents of the screens were replaced with the result.

"Right. That far right column. What are you figuring that's for?"

"Most likely what the payment was for. Every two hundred thousand dollar payment has the same series of numbers and letters. NTu333." Sterling scrolled down until he found an entry with that number. "Again, the key to what all this means is not included anywhere."

"Right. Scroll back up." Hardison looked back at his own computer with a frown. After a moment he glanced up at Sterling and then over to Parker. "I don't suppose you two …"

"Hardison," Sterling said quietly.

Hardison scowled at him then nodded at the screens. "Look at those numbers this year. The ten thousand dollar ones. There are thirteen so far this year. Five years ago there were twenty-three. Ten years ago there were nineteen." He glanced at Sterling. "Thirty-five years ago there were twenty-seven."

Sterling's face tightened, his hand gripping the laptop monitor so tightly Nate was surprised it didn't break. After a moment he let the hand drop. "So the conference is really …" He started in a wooden voice then stopped when Hardison shook his head firmly.

"No. The conference is real. We have some very real, high-powered people involved in these conferences. These people, whoever they are, are apparently using the conference as a cover for … other activities."

"So this notation is for activities connected with this particular conference?" Eliot asked, pointing toward the last column and glancing at Sterling.

Sterling flipped through screens, sorting and resorting before grunting. "Looks like it. They all start with SSi and then have what looks like the year."

Nate glanced at the big screen and suppressed a wince when he realized that most of the entries visible had SSi1975 in the last column. He found himself staring at one entry, the entry starting with CLC.

"Sterling …"

"Not the healthiest thing to do, eh?" Sterling gave him a twisted smile and scrolled up to the top. "Okay, so we get the attendee lists … why are you shaking your head?"

"Because the attendee lists are not public." Hardison explained. "My first thought. They are not posted on the internet and they are not made public for security reasons. I've checked their computers and found nothing. The lists are kept off-line."

"Why?" Nate and Sterling said together, something that had them looking at each other in consternation.

"Apparently there are a lot of big name people who attend, people who prefer to stay low-key, so as a favor to them, the organization keeps the attendee lists private. Now as near as I can tell the organization is legit. So these … people are just using it for other purposes."

"So every five years there is this conference and this ring uses it as a chance to meet and … what?" Sterling stared at his computer. "Set up private parties? With special party favors?"

Nate winced at the other man's wording but didn't say anything. After a moment Sterling looked at him thoughtfully.

"Right," he said softly. "Look, why don't I see what I can do with this journal? Maybe I can figure out what it says." He shut off his computer.

"Wait a minute." Eliot almost growled and Sterling paused, looking at him expressionless.

"Where is the headquarters for this organization? The one who puts on the conference?"

"In England. London, to be exact." Hardison didn't even bother looking at the information, obviously expecting someone to ask.

"So the conference is in Paris and the organization is in England. The only way to get a list of attendees is from one or the other. So we head to Paris and we work from there." Eliot looked at Nate.

"Okay," Nate said slowly.

"They come with us," Eliot gestured toward Sterling and Parker.

Nate straightened. "What? Wait …"

"No. No wait. Easiest way to keep them both out of trouble. We leave them here and … hell, they'd probably end up in Paris on their own. Least this way we can keep an eye on them."

Sterling slowly slipped his computer into the backpack, watching the two men with a bemused expression. After a moment, he glanced at Parker, seeing the same expression on her face.

"Do we get a say in this?" he asked her.

It was Eliot who answered. "No. You come with us and keep each other out of trouble. It means you can help; Sterling and you, Parker, but you do what we say. No freelancing." He hesitated, knowing he should talk this over with Nate but knowing they really didn't have the time. "Look, I know you both have a stake in this but it's gotten a hell of a lot bigger than just you two. We need to find out just how big this group is and who is involved and then we work out to shut them down. Working on your own, concentrating on only your attackers … that could warn the ring and blow any chance to shut them down."

Sterling frowned. "This may surprise you, Spencer, but I do understand that." He hesitated. "As long as the bastard who … as long as he's taken down I won't argue. Sooner better than later though."

Eliot grunted then glanced at Nate inquiringly. The older man didn't look happy and after a moment Eliot scowled.

"You two. Go sit down in the pub. Don't go anywhere."

Parker and Sterling stared at him with almost identical expressions. Eliot gave them his best 'I-mean-it' look and they glanced at each other.

"I love it when he plays fierce," Parker commented.

"Me not so much," Sterling returned as he rose, slinging his pack over his shoulder. "Me he'd actually hit. Come on. It's been three hours. You must be hungry."

"Haha." Parker made a face at him and grabbed her own pack before leading Sterling from the condo.

The others watched them go.

"Uhm. How safe is that?" Hardison finally asked.

"Give me a break," Eliot said. "They've been keeping each other company for the last couple of days." He nodded toward the screens. "Bring up the view of the pub."

"Yeah right."

One of the screens went to static then cleared, showing the view of the cluster of tables they most commonly used in the pub. It took a couple minutes but Parker and Sterling finally appeared, settling at a table.

"Look." Eliot turned toward Nate. "We can't leave them here. I mean we went away for ... what? ... twenty-four hours and Parker raids Montgomery's place. What are they going to do with us clear over in Europe? And I don't think we can leave someone behind to keep an eye on them. We'd be way too short-handed. And we are going to need Parker's skills. Hell, we could use Sterling's skills and contacts."

"Plus they will keep each other out of trouble," Sophie added.

"Or get each other in twice as much trouble." Hardison pointed out.

"But at least if they're with us, we can deal with it. And again, we need the numbers." Eliot gave Nate a defiant look.

"Wait a minute, people. Wait a minute." Hardison's fingers flew over the keyboard. "Well, damn. Looks like taking Sterling is a real good idea." He looked up. "IYS is insuring the conference."

"So in other words," Sophie said after a long silence. "He could be our ticket into the place."

"Maybe." Nate scowled. "All right, fine. They come with us. We all keep an eye on them."

"I think as long as we keep them busy and include them in everything, there won't be much of a problem," Sophie said, her tone hopeful.

"Yeah, right. Hardison, get us all tickets to Paris and rooms in a hotel close to the conference." He frowned thoughtfully. "How are people getting into the conference anyway? Invitation only?"

"I got people working on that," Hardison said. "By the time we get there they should have the information for us."

"Right. Let's call them up … "

"Maybe we should go down." Eliot suggested.

Nate followed his eyes, sighing at the sight of the waitress setting appetizers on the table. "Right. I'll go down."

"I'll come with you." Sophie rose.

By the time they entered the pub the lunch crowd was starting to trickle in. Several of the customers were throwing puzzled looks toward the area near the sign and at first Nate thought they were looking at the couple working locks at the table. It was only when Sophie started giggling that Nate realized that the stuffed lemur Parker had been playing with earlier was now perched in the upper part of the "R" in McRory's, positioned as if it were peering out the window. He suppressed a sigh and walked over to pull out a chair.

"You take way too long," Parker was complaining as Sophie walked around to sit across from Nate.

"Hush." Sterling probed delicately at the lock with a pick. After a moment he reached for a second pick. "Like I said before, I don't do this on a regular basis. Though I am seriously considering lock smith classes." His voice trailed off and his face tightened with concentration, hissing at Nate when he started to speak. A couple more minutes of silence and he grunted as the lock popped open. He set it in front of Parker. "So what have you decided?"

It took Nate a moment to realize that Sterling was talking to him. "You come with us to Paris."

"What?" Sterling gave him an amused look. "I have no say in the matter?"

Nate's lips thinned but before he could respond, Sterling sighed and shook his head.

"You used to be able to take a joke, Nate. It maybe hasn't occurred to you that I don't have the resources to go to Paris? You know, clothes, passport …"

"You always take your passport whenever you travel," Nate said in clipped tones. "And suits, just in case."

Sterling slouched back in his chair, eyeing Nate thoughtfully. "All right, yes. I have my passport. And a couple suits. I can pick up anything else." He paused with a frown. "Within reason. An airplane ticket, on the other hand …"

"Hardison's setting up the flight and hotel. And you might be able to expense some things," he paused long enough for the other man's eyes to narrow. "IYS is insuring the conference."

Sterling straightened with a hiss then he paused, eyes turning thoughtful. "Well." His lips curved into a smile. "Doesn't that work out perfectly?"

"What?" Sophie asked.

"I've been doing surprise inspections of the various offices around the world. Just dropping in to check out how the investigators are working and the investigations are running. I'm doing it unannounced and since I've been on leave they won't expect it." He slumped back. "I'll have to call and end my leave, of course."

Nate's phone rang and he answered it, listened for a few seconds before closing it back up. "That was Hardison. Our flights booked for this evening. We'll have to be at the airport in about five hours. We should get in early tomorrow morning. The conference starts sometime tomorrow. Hardison's working at getting an agenda."

"Can we go stop in London?" Sterling asked suddenly.

"We'll get set up in Paris and then decide what to do." Nate picked up an appetizer, aware of Sterling's scrutiny. "We're going to be working together, Sterling. Consider yourself a member of the team, which means you're taking orders from me. Just like the old days." The moment he said those final words, Nate regretted it.

Sterling's laughter didn't help.

"I take it he didn't take orders very well in the old days," Sophie said dryly, watching the laughing man warily.

"I think he's going to hurt himself," Parker said in mild awe then added. "Remember to breathe, Sterling."

Nate finally kicked him hard in the leg.

"Owww." Sterling gave him a dark look, rubbing at his leg. "No, I didn't take orders very well. Good thing too, considering how often I had to pull your ass out of the fire."

Nate sputtered protests but Sterling ignored him.

"So we leave in just a few hours, heh? Well, I'm going to need these bandages changed." He held out his hand, the bandages looking worse for wear. "And get my stuff. Mind if I bring it over to your place, Nate? Maybe use your washer and dryer? I don't think I need to buy anything and if I do, I can get it there." He sighed. "Oh lord. Going to Paris. Whatever happens I'm going to have to pick up something for Tess." He stifled a groan. "And when Lyta finds out she'll hand me a shopping list."

"Lyta?" Sophie said, blinking at the unfamiliar name.

"My assistant."

"His keeper." Nate corrected.

Sterling grimaced at him. "True enough. I seriously don't know what I'd do without her."

Sophie glanced at her watch and rose. "Come on, Parker. Let's go and get packed. We'll be back at your place in two hours."

Sterling reached out a hand to pluck the lemur from the sign and offer it to Parker. "Here. Don't forget him."

"Right." Scooping up what remained of the appetizer, Parker snatched the lemur from Sterling and followed the older woman from the pub.

"Wait a second." Sterling scowled after them. "Did I just get stuck with the check again?"

"What do you think?" Nate stood. "Come on. I'll drive you over to check out and get your things."

XoXoXoX

A couple hours later Nate sat on the couch, flipping through the screens and studying the material that appeared. He could hear Sterling in his utility room, folding up clean clothes and packing his suitcase. The man had spent most of his time talking on the phone; first calling the office to inform them that he was no longer on leave and then the ever capable Lyta to give her instructions for his trip to Paris.

Nate had to grin during that conversation, especially at Sterling's exasperated "Email it to me. No, I will not lose it! I wouldn't dare!". Despite the fact that Sterling was her boss, any conversation the man had with her came out sounding that she was giving the orders. Sterling never argued with her nor did anyone else for very long. Not even, he remembered, Blackpoole.

Now Sterling was talking with his wife, his voice low and soft. Nate didn't try to listen, concentrating on the items in front of him. The dismantled bag, the items that had been packed in the open or hidden in it. He'd re-examined everything and thumbed through the brag book.

Now ideas formed and were discarded then reformed. By the time the others arrived he had the outlines of a plan.

XoXoXoX

_An estate outside of London_

On her better days, Linda Weatherspoon was often compared favorably with the woman from that mummy movie. The 1999 remake, not the earlier one. And while she could, at times, acknowledge a _slight_ resemblance to the heroine, she knew she'd never be one to work out in a dig (the sun does such dreadful things to one's skin) nor would she be any good fighting off marauders or mummies (guns tend to scare her).

What she was good at was research. Give her a task and she would shift through dusty archives and ill-kept and ill-cataloged collections to find out every piece of information she possibly could on the requested subject. Her expertise and professionalism granted her access to any library, even those not well known or with very limited access. So when the request had come from Professor Nicholson for information on an obscure secret society, she had thrown herself into it, working from the large libraries in London to one private collection to another. Now she was at a collection she had once used before and would really prefer not to use again but memory nagged at her every time she looked at the design the Professor had sent her. She had seen it before and, despite her misgivings, something told her it was here that she had seen it.

"Need any help, ducky?" The caretaker asked as he unlocked the door into the private collection.

"No. No, thank you." She adjusted her backpack, filled with what she needed.

The caretaker frowned at her but didn't protest. Apparently her exemplary behavior the last time she was here allowed her some leeway.

"Remember the rules then?"

"Perfectly." She removed white cotton gloves from her pocket and slipped them on, her eyes already roaming over the books within.

The caretaker grunted his approval and waved her in. "I'll have to lock you in, of course. When you're ready to leave just use the house phone. Mind the water and crumbs." He winked at her.

Despite the guilty flush that crept into her face, she smiled back, acknowledging that she did indeed have a couple bottles of water and some snacks in her backpack. Making a note to do something nice for the caretaker … maybe a nice fruit basket, the Professor was certainly paying her enough … she walked in and waited as the door was closed and locked before looking around.

Even with the lights all on, it was still dim. The contents of this small library were very old and fragile so the best of care was taken with them. The room was climate controlled and the only bright lights were at a desk set in the corner. She walked over to turn on the lights there and set her pack down next to the chair. Taking a deep breath, she plunged both physically and mentally into the stacks, thankful that the books were kept well-dusted and reasonably organized.

She disregarded the scrolls stacked neatly in the cubbyholes along one wall; she had only taken a cursory look at them last time she was here. With quick experienced motions, she made her way through the books lining the walls then started on the books in the stacks. She concentrated on finding the sketch, doing her best to ignore the salacious contents of most of the books. Though she did have to admit she was fascinated by some of the sketches and descriptions. Was that even possible … shutting the book much more gently then she would if respect for old books hadn't been ingrained in her, she put it away.

She felt more unclean than if the book had been covered with dust. A shower would definitely be in order when she was done.

"Ah! There you are." She tapped the page of the open book gently with her forefinger then half-closed the cover to glance at the title. With a nod, she took the over-sized book over to the desk and made her way through the book, sometimes using a magnifying glass to peer at the faded sketches. Finally she stopped and reached for her camera. It was the best she could buy, able to pick out fine and faded details. Carefully she took photos of the pages she needed then paused as the flash brought out something in one of the sketches. Frowning she studied the sketch, reaching over to tilt the light to illuminate the sketch better.

Grabbing her pack, she dug out the sketch the Professor had sent to her, studying it intently before setting it next to the book. Reaching for the magnifying glass she studied first one and then the other.

"Well. Isn't that interesting?" Carefully she put the book away and gathered her stuff together. "I do believe the Professor may have some explaining to do."

With that she called the caretaker and followed him from the ancient library, pausing only to look back as the plague on the door. Tarnished with age, it read _Library of the Order of the Friars of St. Francis of Wycombe and all branches thereof. Entry allowed only by special permission._ Underneath it was a newer plaque that read _The Order of the Friars of St. Francis of Wycombe was also known as the Hellfire Club._


	11. Chapter 10

_So here's the deal; one of my New Year's resolutions. To actually finish the stories I have started and write the stories I keep talking about. To start the year off right, here is the next chapter of The Ring Job then I must work on the sequel to Blind Trust. Please keep an eye on my bio/profile for news on what I am working on.**  
**_

* * *

Sterling walked into the hotel room, aware of Nate behind him. Hanging the garment bag in the closet, he set his suitcase on the floor and pulled off his backpack with a sigh. "Shared rooms, Nate?" He asked the man behind him.

"Be glad you're not in with Eliot and Hardison." Nate hung his own bag up. "We were lucky to get three rooms in the same hotel, much less the same floor." He neglected to mention that it was thanks to Hardison's electronic manipulation that they managed to do that. By the look Sterling gave him he wasn't fooled. "What were you and Parker doing anyway?"

"What? On the plane? Playing chess."

"Chess?"

"Yeah. She's not bad. Won't ever be a master but ..." He pulled open a drawer restlessly then closed it, reaching down to pick up his suitcase and set it on the dresser. "So what's the plan?"

There was no answer and he finally turned to look at the other man. Nate was at the window, staring out over the city. After a moment he smiled.

"Remember the first time a case brought us to Paris?"

He saw Nate's answering smile in the reflection of the window. "I remember you were an arrogant little snot."

"With good reason." Sterling shot back.

Nate grimaced, unable to argue with that. It had been widely rumored that Henderson, the chairman at the time, had hired Sterling as a favor for a friend and when Nate had been called into Henderson's office and told that they'd be working together, his response hadn't been good.

_Nate glared at Henderson's back, hoping to convey his dislike of this assignment without actually coming out and saying it. The older man's expression when he turned, a drink in each hand, said he knew exactly what Nate was thinking._

_"I know what people are saying." He handed Nate a glass. "And they should know better." Loosening his jacket, he sat on the corner of his desk. "I have never hired anyone just as a favor for a friend." He pointed a finger at Nate. "You should know better."_

_"What qualifications does he have?"_

_"Same qualifications you had when I hired you. Maybe a few more." Henderson grinned at the look that got him. "Yes. Fletcher asked me if I could give him a chance. I met the man, talked with him, and was impressed. He's sharp. Picks things up quickly. Has a great deal of practical experience. And I want you to show him the ropes."_

_"Why me?"_

_"Because you could use the experience of working with another investigator. And you are one of our best investigators. I want him to learn from you." Henderson rose, walking over to face him. "Look, you know artwork. He knows jewelry. I mean he really knows jewelry. One of the reasons I hired him is because he's already saved the company a great deal of money." He waved off Nate's curious look. "Long story. Maybe he'll tell it to you." He smirked at the sour look Nate gave him._

_"Has he had any training?" Nate persisted._

_"He's working on a bachelor's degree in criminal justice." Henderson walked over to sit in one of the comfortable chairs to one side, gesturing for Nate to take another. "Like I said before, he's bright. Speaks five languages very well and is passable in several more. He's done a great deal of traveling. Worked freelance doing a variety of different jobs. Picked up classes here and there on several different subjects." He grinned. "A very eclectic life."_

_Nate glanced around the office, frowning. "And you think he'll fit into the corporate world?" he said doubtfully._

_Henderson laughed, slapping his leg. "The man's a chameleon." He eyed his companion. "Much like you. When you meet him," he nodded toward the outer room. "I'll bet he'll be speaking with a Cockney accent. He looks and acts rough around the edges but put him in a tux and the right place and you'd think he was to the manor born. He can be an English lowlife or upper-class. An Irishman or a Russian. Even an American. When I first saw him he was riding a motorcycle and looking like a thug. Two hours later he was perfectly presentable, in a suit and escorting Fletcher's daughter to a formal dance."_

_"Oh?" Nate's eyebrows arched._

_"Yes, that's why Fletcher's interested in him," Henderson said dryly. He hesitated then shrugged. "One reason. He likes the young man. Thoroughly approves of him. Surprising for a father, especially one that knows his daughter is sleeping with the young man in question but there it is. Jim started taking criminal justice classes seriously a couple years ago and when he started checking out careers, Fletcher steered him this way and asked me on the QT to consider him. He's already transferred to a school here. I want him working with you." He gave Nate a sharp look. "You both can use the experience."_

_Nate knew he could argue but he also knew it wouldn't do any good. In the end he managed to greet Sterling with his true feelings hidden. Or at least he thought he did._

_Sterling had proven himself quickly, though Nate had almost blown it by coming very close to not listening to the man. But he had and they had managed to uncover a major insurance fraud. Since he was the senior investigator, he had gotten most of the credit but he'd made sure his report gave credit where it was due. Not that he wasn't tempted to claim all the credit – he was – but the knowledge that Henderson would know the truth kept him from doing so. _

_The fact that Sterling had taken a knife slash that was almost certainly meant for him helped._

Nate shook himself free from the memories and turned to look at the other man. Sterling was watching him thoughtfully, his eyes hooded.

"So what's the plan?" he repeated.

Nate flipped through the plans he'd developed. While they varied in several ways there were keys points that were close to the same.

"You and Eliot will go to the IYS office and ..."

Sterling was already shaking his head. "I work alone, Nate. You know that."

"Not in this, Sterling. Sterling!" His voice cracked, disrupting the other man's protests. "We do this our way. That's the agreement. Either follow it or we're gone."

Sterling's lips thinned and he looked away with a jerky motion. The muscles in his face worked.

"I seem to remember a cousin of Tess' working for the Houston branch of IYS. Colt Bishop, right?" Without waiting for an answer, he continued curtly. "Hardison's dummied up identification for him. Both of you will go to the offices today. Find out what you can, get what you can then Eliot will take over." He frowned thoughtfully, absently reaching up to pull on his lip. "I could take your place ..."

Sterling snorted. "Your English accent sucks. Even if it didn't there's a very good chance that someone from IYS will be there. Someone who knows me or you. Which would blow it all to hell."

Nate frowned. Those thoughts had occurred to him as well and he reluctantly discarded that idea. "So Eliot will go it alone. If anyone asks, you have the stomach flu or something along those lines." He hesitated. "He'll have to work inside alone, damn it."

Sterling shook his head. "I understand that you don't want Parker there anymore then you want me there and there's no reason for Sophie to go in … unless …" He paused, his eyes thoughtful. He'd started out speaking in clipped, almost angry tones now his voice softened. "Montgomery's met Sophie, right? In one of her other personas? So if they were to run into each other in Paris …"

"That would be a hell of a consequence." Nate pointed out.

"But not impossible." Sterling insisted, eyes dancing. For a moment it was like the old days, with them tossing ideas back and forth as they worked out an investigation. "And if Montgomery thinks anything of it … well, he'd probably figure she was interested in him enough to follow him to France. On the other hand …" He gestured vaguely toward the room next door. "Hardison could go in and make like the flight reservation was made months ago and the room reservation as well. Maybe …" He rocked back on his heels. "You do realize that Bastille Day is the next couple of days?"

Nate blinked. No, he hadn't realized that. How could he have missed it? "No wonder it was so difficult to get the rooms," he muttered then flushed slightly at the look the other man gave him. "That might work." He said reluctantly.

Sterling chuckled suddenly, startling Nate. "You never liked to admit that I can actually come up with workable plans. Never mind that before you quit my case record was as good as yours."

Nate's lips thinned. "It wouldn't have been if you weren't cutting corners and taking the easy way out to close cases!" he snapped.

Sterling jerked back, his face blanching. "The easy …damn it, Nate! I've never taken the easy way out where a case was concerned! And I've certainly never cut corners! Where the hell did you get that idea?"

Sterling looked honestly bewildered by Nate's accusations and the other man paused, frowning. Before either of them could say anything more there was a sharp knocking at the connecting door. Nate felt a surge of relief at the interruption and walked past Sterling to unlock the door and swing it open. Eliot walked through, his eyes darting between the two men.

"What?" he half-growled.

Sterling abruptly turned away and walked over to the sitting area, throwing himself into a chair and staring broodingly at the floor.

"Nothing," Nate muttered. "Where's Hardison?"

"Making sure his equipment is all intact and powered up then he wants to check in with his contacts."

"Right. Hardison get you all the papers you need for Bishop?"

"Yeah."

"Okay so you two are set ..." Nate turned back to Sterling then stopped at the sight of Parker now sitting in the chair next to the other man. They were glaring at each other; Parker holding out that toy lemur, Sterling gripping the lemur's head with a hand.

"That reminds me," Sterling said. "I need to shave."

"But he likes the beard," Parker protested, pulling the toy from the man's grip.

"Even so." He pushed himself to his feet, pulling off his jacket to drape it over the chair. "I recommend we head for the offices after lunch. Lunch Paris-time that is. Two, two-thirty." He walked over to his suitcase, opening it to pull out a toiletry kit.

"No call ahead?" Eliot asked.

"And warn them?" Sterling walked toward the bathroom, pausing at a rapid knocking at the door. Swinging it open, he stepped back hastily as Sophie hurried past him.

"Is Parker ... oh, there you are." The relief on Sophie's face was almost palpable. Behind her, Sterling rolled his eyes and vanished into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

Nate stared after him, frowning then shook his head. "Eliot, let Hardison know Sophie will need her Rose Tyler identification ... I'll explain later," he added at Sophie's questioning look. "Eliot, make sure ..." He paused at Eliot's slight grin.

"I'll handle it," he murmured.

"Right. Now Parker ..." Nate turned toward where the woman had been sitting.

She wasn't there.

"Oh damn!" Sophie whispered, eyes going wide and frantic.

Nate was about to echo her when Eliot cleared his throat. He looked at the younger man, who nodded toward the bathroom door, now slightly ajar.

"You're kidding me," Nate muttered. Stepping over, he pushed the door open.

"What?" Parker, now sitting cross-legged on the closed toilet seat, said, her hands fiddling with the toy lemur.

Sterling, scrapping the last of his beard off, met Nate's eyes in the mirror and grinned. "I'm shaving that lemur next."

"You are not!" Parker cradled the toy protectively, glowering at him.

Nate slowly took a step back then turned to walk back into the other room. Looking at Eliot, he mouthed 'How does she do that?' at him. Eliot only shrugged.

"Right. Sophie and I are going to walk over and take a look at the conference center." Grabbing a hat from his bag, he took Sophie's elbow and guided her toward the door. "You two listen to Eliot," he said curtly as they passed the bathroom.

"Yes, dad," Sterling said in a droll voice and Parker giggled.

Nate threw him a glare as he followed Sophie from the room.

xxXxx

After stopping at Sophie's room long enough for her to grab a scarf and a pair of sunglasses, the couple emerged from the hotel and turned toward the conference center several blocks away.

"Taxi?" he asked and she shook her head.

"It's not a bad walk and it's a pleasant day." She tied the scarf over her hair. "Hardison, can you hear me?"

"Loud and clear." The young man's voice came over the earbuds.

"Do you have a lock on where Montgomery is?"

"Yep. Locked onto the GPS unit in his phone. Looks like he is out of the city right now."

"Well, the conference doesn't start until two," Nate spoke up. "Hardison, who has earbuds at this time?"

"Just me, you two, and Eliot."

"Good. Keep it that way for now. And remake identification for Rose Tyler." He glanced at Sophie. "Sterling pointed out that it's Bastille Day the next couple days. Wouldn't be too surprising for Rose to fly over for it."

"No, I suppose not. A bit of a stretch but doable." Sophie slid her arm through Nate's and they became another couple enjoying the Paris scenery.

"Keeping those two locked down isn't going to be easy," Nate said at last.

"No, it's not," Sophie agreed.

Nate threw her a look. "I'd like it better if we could keep them apart. I don't like Parker hanging around Sterling so much."

"I'll tell you the same thing I told Hardison, Nate. Right now those two need each other. In a way they're keeping each other grounded. When this is over they'll be right back the way they were …" She hesitated. "Well, mostly. But right now they need each other, if only to keep themselves sane."

Nate looked at her oddly and she shook her head.

"Part of what I do is read people, Nate and I'm pretty good at it. Sterling's holding on by a thread. Those mood swings he's going through … half the time he's the smooth insurance investigator we've always knows. The other half … he's still that abused wild child. We can't tell which way he's going to jump but then neither can he."

They walked on for a few minutes, Nate mulling over what she was saying.

"They're two sides of the same coin, you know," Sophie said suddenly. "Parker and Sterling. Thief and thief-catcher. But for a twist of fate, Sterling could have become what Parker is. Instead he went the other way." There was a hint of admiration in her voice.

"Sophie …"

"Dislike him all you want, Nate, but you have to admire what he's accomplished. From that abused wild child living a bare existence in a Traveler caravan to the VIP of investigations for a world-wide insurance company. He couldn't have had much of an education. In fact I doubt he could even read and yet he managed to pass at least his O-levels. He had to have in order to go to college in America."

Nate nodded reluctantly, thinking back on those days of finding Sterling holed up, studying for one class or another. It had surprised him how much education seemed to matter to the younger man and there wasn't a time when he wasn't enrolled in at least one class somewhere. A part of him wondered idly if he was still taking classes.

"The first time I ran into him," Sophie mussed. "he was different then he is now. Easier to laugh. At me, at the situation. At himself. He even sent me flowers once, when I managed to outsmart him and get away with the goods." She smiled at the memory, a smile that slowly faded. "The last time I met him … before we met again in Kentucky … he was harder. Colder. More driven. At least now I understand why."

Nate made a noncommittal sound. "There's the conference center."

Sophie took a look. "Well. Doesn't look like they're letting people in. Must be some very big names."

"Yeah. Let's take a look around."

xxXxx

"Mademoiselle Depaul-Laurent?" Sterling straightened as the woman approached them.

Noella Depaul-Laurent, head of the Paris IYS offices, smiled in a decidedly frosty manner. "Mr. Sterling. How nice of you to visit us." Her English was letter-perfect with only a hint of accent.

Eliot hid a grin. It was obvious that the woman didn't appreciate the visit at all and her hostility cloaked in politeness didn't go unnoticed by Sterling. The other man smiled slightly, that snarky near-smirk that usually made Eliot want to hit him. Right now he agreed with it completely.

"Hardly a visit, Ms. Depaul-Laurent." His tone was as chilly as hers. "I'm here to take a look at how investigations are being run here."

"I ... see. Of course. I had heard but I'd expected some notification."

Sterling said nothing, just looked at her with that annoying smirk.

The woman took a deep breath then looked speculatively at Eliot. "And this is ..."

"Colt Bishop. My assistant for this trip."

"Of course. I assume you'd like to look over out current investigations. This way please." Turning on her heel she led them down the hall.

Sterling and Eliot exchanged glances, both seeing a sudden change in the woman's attitude and both wondering what had caused it.

A little over an hour later Sterling set down a file, nodding in reluctant approval. "Everything seems to be in order. Not that I doubted anything wouldn't be." His voice was bland and Ms. Depaul-Laurent gave him a sharp look. Sterling ignored her as he steepled his fingers, absently bouncing them off each other. "I'd like to see a more recent investigation. Maybe a current one?"

"Well, we have investigations all over France. I'm not sure ..." She began to run her hands over the files with a frown.

"Something in Paris, I think."

"How about this?" Eliot held out one of the files he'd been thumbing through.

Sterling threw him a sharp look, his eyes locking almost hungrily on the file. Eliot ignored him, keeping the woman's attention on him and away from Sterling, hoping that he regained his composure before she noticed.

Ms. Depaul-Laurent took the file almost reluctantly, forcing a smile. "This conference? Hardly an investigation …"

"But a chance for us to see how this office set up security for such an event," Sterling said. If his voice seemed rougher then before only Eliot had the knowledge to notice. "What is the conference?"

The woman frowned, eyes flicking between the two of them. "It's a conference on child abuse," she said finally. "The attendees are very involved in the cause."

Despite himself, Eliot winced, reflecting that the woman's wording could have been better. Sterling, he was relieved to see, didn't react to the statement and only listened as she continued.

"They raise a great deal of money for various specific areas of abuse. This year's primary focus is child soldiers though several other areas will be covered." She sighed deeply. "There are so many …"

"Yes," Sterling murmured before raising his voice. "I think that will do. IYS is providing security for the conference, correct?"

"Of course."

"I saw something in there about an auction." Eliot cut in.

"Oh yes." Ms. Depaul-Laurent brightened. "There will be an auction of a donated necklace." She named the store and both men made appreciative noises. "And other items as well."

"Could we get a copy of that file?" Sterling asked, gesturing toward the file in question. "And we'll need passes to get in."

"And the attendee list please," Eliot added. He saw Sterling stiffen and hid a smirk. Nate had suggested the request to him privately, obviously suspecting that Sterling meant to try and get the list himself.

Ms. Depaul-Laurent frowned. "I'm not sure if ... the attendees are very private people. They would not be happy if their names were made public."

Eliot found himself exchanging a look with Sterling over that. What person wouldn't want it known that they actively support efforts to abolish child abuse? Ms. Depaul-Laurent seemed to guess their thoughts.

"They prefer their generosity to be secret. So they are not inundated with requests from everyone."

"Of course and as IYS employees, we are bound by the same confidentiality clauses you are," Sterling said blandly. "The copies? And the passes please?"

The woman's smile cracked slightly. "Of course." She rose. "This may take a few minutes. Please, help yourself to refreshments." She waved toward the discrete bar before walking out with the folder.

Eliot turned to Sterling then paused as the man gave him a narrow-eyed look and a slight shake of the head. Absently Sterling reached up to scratch an ear and Eliot suppressed a sigh. Rising he paced the room, looking at the artwork.

"Coffee?" Sterling asked and Eliot turned to see him by the coffee-maker, pouring himself a mug.

"Yeah, sure."

"Okay, guys." Hardison's voice came over the earbuds.

Sterling's hand tightened on the pot, barely managing to suppress a jerk of surprise. Eliot gave him a warning look and the other man took a deep, steadying breath before reaching for another mug.

"Searches are being done on both of you. Well, you, Sterling, and on Bishop."

Sterling passed Eliot the now full mug and picked his own back up. "Interesting," he murmured behind the cover of the mug. "Hope your modifications hold up."

Eliot gave him a black look and Hardison muttered into the earbuds, too low for them to make out the words. After a moment's reflective silence, Sterling flicked a look at him.

"Sorry," he muttered. "This entire situation ..." His voice trailed off.

"Right," Hardison said after a moment's silence. "The info's holding up."

Sterling sauntered toward the desk with its neat piles of files. Absently he began to shift them almost randomly and, after a moment of watching, Eliot hid a smile behind his raised cup, realizing that the other man had noticed Depaul-Laurent's prissy OCD behavior. Sterling flicked him a look, his lips curving in a slight smile.

"Here," he said, picking up one of the files he'd looked at earlier. "This might interest you."

Eliot gave him a narrow-eyed look as he slowly took it. He opened the file, his breath catching as he realized what it was about. Setting his mug down, he began to pace as he read.

He was just reaching the end when he heard Sterling clearing his throat. Alerted by the warning, he shut the file and returned it casually to the desk just as Depaul-Laurent walked back in. Her steps faltered slightly at the scattered files on her desk then she was offering a manila envelope, her smile tight.

Eliot moved quicker then he should to take the envelope before Sterling could. He heard the man's breath catch but ignored it.

"Thanks."

"Of course." Her eyes slid between him and Sterling and he wondered what she had noticed and what she may be thinking. "The passes are inside."

"Thank you. And it was a pleasure to meet you," Sterling said pleasantly, already turning to leave.

"I will get a copy of the report?" the woman asked, hurrying to join them.

"Of course, as soon I have it written up. Again, thank you." Sterling opened the door, ushering Eliot out before following. "That was interesting," he murmured, glancing back to see the woman watching them as they walked down the street.

"Yeah." Once out of sight Eliot pulled out his earbud, gesturing for Sterling to do the same.

Sterling did so. "What?"

"That file ..."

"Consider it compensation. Or maybe a thank you. For helping." He turned away abruptly, seemingly embarrassed. "Undoubtedly Nate will think of some nefarious reason for me handing you that file."

Eliot's lips thinned at that. "I'd prefer he didn't know about it."

Sterling turned back to look at him, surprise on his face. He thought about it then slowly nodded. "All right. It's your business. It's ..." He looked back at the IYS offices, his voice turning thoughtful. "It's pretty much a dead case anyway. At least I thought it was."

"Leave it," Eliot said shortly.

Sterling chewed on his cheek for a moment then sighed. "All right. It's not a case I'm involved with anyway. Though I wonder why ..." He caught the look on Eliot's face and threw up his hands. "It's all yours. Just ... if you can, send me enough so I can officially close the damn thing."

Eliot thought about it then grunted. "Okay, I can do that." He started to replace the earbud but paused at Sterling's gesture toward the envelope.

"Is there a map of the conference center in there?"

Eliot's eyes narrowed and Sterling suppressed a sigh.

"Look, I could have not said a thing and just gotten it off the internet but no. I'm asking you for it. That should count for something. I ..." He hesitated. "I have an idea."

Eliot hesitated before finally reaching into the envelope and pulling out the glossy brochure for the convention center. This was a special one obviously made for the conference.

Sterling took it and stepped to one side, out of foot traffic, to look it over. Finally he grunted. "Just what I thought. Here."

Eliot stepped next to him, following the other man's gestures.

"Here's the conference area. Quite a space too. But here is the secured area, off to one side. That's where most of the security will be, because of the valuables."

"And?" Eliot pressed.

Sterling gave him a look. "And one of the things I do is test any security IYS is involved with. So while you're dealing with the conference, I can test security."

Eliot sucked in his breath but before he could say anything, Sterling hurriedly continued.

"Look. The two areas are about as separate as you can get them. The convention is happening here. This area is pretty much sealed off. I doubt many attendees will be there. You have the agenda?"

Eliot opened the envelope, searching for the agenda. Finally he found it, glancing at Sterling.

"What am I looking for?"

"Does it say what hours this area, the display area, will be open?"

"Okay." Eliot scanned the agenda. "Huh. They have some pretty interesting panels here. Here it is. There's the grand unveiling tonight and then set times that the room will be open for people to look at the items. The auction will be on Thursday."

"Okay, good. So I go with you ... Hear me out before you shoot it down. I go with you this afternoon. Evening. Whatever. We meet with the person in charge. You'll be doing the conference as your first solo assignment … God! I hope no one ever mentions this to Colt … and I'll take over testing the security for the valuables. Parker can help me, which will keep both of us occupied."

"And give you a chance to see how she operates in real time." Eliot pointed out.

Sterling shrugged. "Two-way street, Spencer. She'll see how I operate. One-on-one."

"True enough." Eliot took the map, studying it intently.

"We'll stay out of the main conference," Sterling said. "Well, I'll do my best to keep her out of there, which is the best any of us can do." He waited impatiently, watching Eliot as he looked over the map and agenda. "Look, what do I have to do to convince you?" he finally burst out.

Eliot eyed him for a long moment. "Give me your word," he said bluntly.

Sterling looked at him in surprise, rocking back on his heels. "I … I got the impression none of you thought me capable of keeping my word," he said with a touch of his old snarkiness in his voice.

"Your son says you keep your word. Your promises.'

Sterling went still at Eliot's words, his breathing ragged. "I … Tommy?" He swallowed hard, the self that Eliot knew coming down over his face like a mask. "I do keep my word. I always have … well, given time anyway … no matter what Nate thinks or what he may have told you. So fine. I give my word that I won't go into the main part of the conference tomorrow." He hesitated. "I can't make that promise for Parker, of course, but I'll do my best to keep her out of it." He looked at Eliot almost defiantly.

Eliot only nodded curtly. "I can't say Nate will agree but we can present the option to him. Come on. There's a cab."


End file.
